The Mother Load

This week was a rough one for my stress level and I allowed that to become my excuse.  I didn't run until Friday night.  I kept putting it off until there was no way for me to run the three days I was supposed to.  I nearly went to bed instead of running Friday, then saw that Richard had fallen asleep fully dressed in anticipation of going out there with me.  My heart filled up with gratitude for this man who is willing to trade sleep to help me reach my goal.  I woke him and asked if he was still willing to get up so I could run and got an enthusiastic affirmative. I didn't even start until after 1 am and had to be up at 6 for work, but it was well worth it.

I think I run better when Richard's with me.  Something about his presence makes it easier, almost fun.  He tells me he's proud of me, how much he loves watching me run, how good I look doing it.  Hmmmm...I guess it's not too hard to see why I like that!  I like making him proud.  I always want to make him proud.

I'm proud of myself too.  I told Richard at the end of Friday night's run that I still feel like an impostor when I'm doing it.  I had an aha moment.  I remembered carrying my large sketch paper to art class and feeling like an impostor because I wasn't an artist.  And yet, I was sketching stuff like this:





Maybe I'm not such an impostor after all.  Maybe I'm just as much a runner as I am an artist and the word impostor is just a crutch I don't need anymore.

During my run Friday night I noticed I'm standing straighter.  I lead into the run with my core muscles.  I like the way the wind feels when I throw out my chest and just go for it.  My time is 20 minutes again, and I could have run more.  That's new. :)

I have plans to run again tonight, and I'm actually looking forward to it.  It's kind of surreal, the way the dread has changed into excitement.  I still don't love running, but I'm open to the possibility...