Theoretically confession is good for the soul. But in practical application it can suck.
Since my doctor told me to stop running last February I’ve allowed myself to gain 15 pounds. Doesn’t sound that terrible, I guess. Except that when you’re barely 5’4″ that’s almost two sizes. So not only do I feel like a loser for gaining a little weight back, I juuuuust can’t fit into any clothes other than my scrubs.
I’m angry at myself, at the universe, at my stupid arthritic back. Waaa,..waaa…waaa… During the past few weeks I’ve indulged in several pity parties.
But I’ve got to find a way to get back on track. So I’m trying something. I’m going against my doctor’s advice.
You see, I love to run. I love the mental release. I love the spiritual connection to breath and life. I love the meditative quality of it. Some of my most deep conversations with God have happened on a run.
So, I’m going to run again. But I’m going to be smarter. I’m going to stretch. A lot. I’m going to start out only running 2 or 3 days a week. I’m going to really bump up the core workouts.
We’ll see how it goes.