When the summer began to wind down, the last thing I felt like doing was stationing myself in front of a computer to write about life. If life is about living I wanted to make sure I was actually doing that in my fleeting hours of irresponsibility. Irresponsibility because I did not work at all this summer. And it was glorious. Side note: somewhere along the line I convinced myself that I am a workaholic and not working would be like not breathing. Impossible. That was what I believed until I didn’t work this summer. Turns out I can still breath.
So in my final few weeks I was determined to do a lot of running- I mentioned in my last post that I ran four miles. Oh, was that overshadowed by my whining that I didn’t see James Franco? Sorry. Four miles might not seem like much of anything considering in my heyday I was doing that each day. Now…times have changed. As I slept in during the long days of irresponsibility, I dreaded physical activity. I was pushing it most days with two miles runs, or I would ride my bike six miles, do a 1.5 miles beach run, ride my bike home and call it a day. Three mile days were few and far between until the past two weeks when I finally acknowledged how lazy I have become. As I mentioned before, it turns out that I’m marvelous at watching every season and episode of any Real Housewives. Indiscriminately.
I forced myself up and out, riding my bike to the gym on days it was too hot to run outside, I took my bike everywhere I needed to go, and I stopped thinking I can’t. Because I have run that much and more. And before I could put in the distance I started with the basics. No excuses. And it was one day as I was riding my bike, blasting some version of Calvin Harris / Avicii something or another that it clicked in my head- today I did not think about going for a run. I just did it. And it took one whole year, but it happened. The day has finally arrived where I workout because it’s what I do and not because I require it of myself. And it feels damn good.
And today I went back to my daily grind and into my fifth year of teaching. I went back to the mornings of fighting with John for mirror space before the sun is out. Back to the days of responsibility- in my job and for myself. And now that the days of irresponsibility are over I hope that stays true. I hope I continue to hold myself accountable and I hope I continue to remember that it always feels worth it after the workout is over. Even when you swear you are going to die and ice cream seems like the only cure in this harsh, harsh world we live in.
52 Miles per Month 