I swear sometimes the gods are out to get me. Not out of some bizarre sense of paranoia, or some weird case of the planets not aligning properly, and a moon being the wrong house, (or some such astrological oddity), I just really think something is doing it’s best to try my non-existent sense of patience. And I’m OVER IT.
#KneeGate2015 aside, it seems lately as though this great big beautiful – often pain in my dupa – thing called life, seems to occasionally thrive on upsetting the apple cart. Over and over and over again. And over. Like Groundhog Day over. Let’s review the recent past shall we? Then you can tell me if I’m just being paranoid. Or whiney. Okay, that part is true. Humor me.
- Approximately two weeks after getting the all clear to get back to running, and having a couple of the most glorious short runs I’ve had in years, after a particularly tough run on the dreadmill at PT, the pain-free gloriousness came to a screeching halt.
- The stress level in my job has shot through the roof. Big company takes over little company because little company was damn good at what it did, and did it EFFICIENTLY. Now THERE’S a word unheard of in said big company. Hence, Burj Khalifa roof-sized stress.
- Go to Key West, meet up with professional body builder/personal trainer/BFF since kindergarten, gain some badly needed inspiration, return home ready to hit the gym/pavement with a renewed sense of purpose, and CATCH A DUPA-KICKING COLD.
See what I’m saying?
All right. Enough of THAT crap.
Now that I’ve got all the whiny bitching out of my system, time for one of my favorite mantras…..MOVING ON. I’m on the upside of my once-a-year case of the plague, the knees are feeling much less achy, and work is….well…..work. I hate it, but it does keep a roof over my head, food in the Wonder Mutt’s bowl, and Disney addictions paid for, so I can’t really complain TOO much.
Really, all of this is just built up aggravation – and a good-sized chunk of worry – that Wine and Dine is only (gulp!) 76 days away. Even though I’m not worried about time this time around, I AM worried about hitting the mileage with training time to spare. So far, I’ve only hit 5k, and it doesn’t take a mathematician to figure out I don’t have a whole lotta time to get those miles chewed up and spit out. Am I having a bit of a freak out? Oh yeah. Will I pull my head out of my ass and get over it? Probably. Do I have a choice but to do just that? Nope.
Deal with it stupid human.
So this is how it’s gonna go. This whiny chica is going to pull on her big girl panties, (now there’s an image you won’t be able to get out of your head, sorrynotsorry), take another dose of vitamin C and echinacea, smack a Ronda Rousey attitude into her head, and get this show on the road. The gods may be trying to test me and test me good, but there’s enough stubbornness, determination, and just plain bull-headedness to get past all this crap. Just ask the hubby. He doesn’t call me concrete-head just because he loves me.
I love you. Really. I do. Really.
Enjoy the ride.
How do you handle all the crap life throws at you? Do you have a stubborn streak or do you tend to just let things bounce off of you? Any sage words of advise for an impatient, mule-headed, obstinate runner?