After nearly gluing myself to a Miller cubicle during all of finals week, I made a promise to myself to change my sedentary lifestyle and go for a run (or do some sort of athletic-related activity) every single day of winter break. I was excited. I made schedules. I packed up all of my cute workout clothes. I bought a new headband. But then winter break rolled around and woops, I had to get lunch with Jen so no run today. Then, gosh darn it, I had a dentist appointment so those push-ups would not be happening. Oh no, Home Alone marathon on ABC family??? Yeah, no way was that trail run going down.
And so on. I think you get the point. Things kept popping up, I kept saying “let me do this now, then I’ll run later,” and then later would never come. I worked out a total of 4 times over all of winter break. For me, that is pretty poor. Between that and all of the Christmas cookies I ate, I felt awful.
I have always been pretty athletic, and I particularly enjoy going for long runs. Usually, I average around 30 miles a week, plus other sorts of physical activity like running stairs, doing Tabata or yoga, and going to the gym. But, for whatever reason, I was in total couch potato mode. I avoided my running shoes like the plague, and then made excuses about being sooo busy. (Reality: I spent most of my break sitting on my butt)
Those 4 times I did actually get myself to get outside, I felt great. During my runs I would tell myself how amazing I felt and scold myself for not realizing sooner that this was really all I needed. Exercise visibly effects my mood, to such a degree that when I am particularly grouchy, my parents always ask me if I’ve gone for a run yet that day. I never regretted getting outside and running over winter break. But then, the next day, when it was time to go for my run, I found myself once again making excuses and hiding behind my Chelsea Handler book (which was seriously good). What was with that? I still can’t figure it out. I just had zero motivation.
Fast forward to Jan plan. Yesterday, I told myself I really, really, really should go for a run. I even took the time to put on lots of layers of running clothes. Then, two hours later, my friend found me asleep in bed with my full running get-up on. Once again, I was frustrated with myself. After I decided it was too late for a run, I went to dinner with my friend and told her about my predicament. She suggested that perhaps I had plateaued with running. In her words: “your body is probably just really bored of that stuff.” Maybe she has a point about my body, but I know for a fact that my mind still loves running. It craves it and fantasizes about it all the time.
So, what is a runner girl to do? Do I suck it up, strap on some running shoes, and just force myself to get back into the groove of things? Or do I take my friend’s advice, give up on running, and start exploring other options?