My eyes opened, my heart still hurt. Not the physical kind. The kind where facing the day sounds overwhelming, and each movement feels like a struggle. My latest victim: running plan. I am being coached by an amazing person who has been nothing but kind with encouragement and daily coaching. But this past weekend, I couldn’t get myself to do the long run of 90 minutes. The idea just felt overwhelming, but more than anything else, i was bone tired. The kind of tired where each step feet like I had lead feet.
I struggled to move, and as I put on my running shoes, I knew my determination would take me out of the door, but at what cost? I sat down on the couch and checked in with myself. My ego was at play I realized. I had worked out 5 days in a row, and the long run would make it 6, but for what?
It’s hard to distinguish between anxiety, laziness and tiredness. Yet I knew I’d pushed myself hard this week. I didn’t allow myself to feel what was going inside. I’d busied myself with tasks and to do list, and not listened to what was going on inside. I was tired. Physically but also emotionally. The pain in my heart. I had to feel to heal it. And it hurt. So much of my life spent on doing rather than feeling the struggle, acknowledging that life hurts, that shit happens and you have to see it for what it is. So I can grow, get better, but most of all, heal. Because if I just put on another layer of distraction and work, I lose change to be a better me. To help others grow through their pain. But again, I had to put on the oxygen mask on first before helping others. I had to hurt so I could heal. The struggle real, but important. So I sat back down, allowed my body rest while my mind felt it all.
And then, a little lighter, feeling rested, I get back up this week. Happy Monday!