It’s been a weird couple of days.
On Tuesday, after completely succumbing to the hateful voice of doubt inside, I had a pretty rotten day. It all came to a head that day when I was consumed by shitty thoughts….about me, about CBG, about our relationship.
Thank you PMS, you piece of shit.
Fortunately I was able to give my head a shake and figure out what was going on. I fired off an email to CBG, letting him know where my headspace was at, what I needed, and asking if we could talk later that night.
And talk we did. I laid it all out on the table. My fears, my mental obstacles that I’m facing when it comes to this marathon, my expectations, my hopes.
It’s difficult for me to expose myself like this to him, even after almost four years together. I try so hard to be strong sometimes, to deal with my issues, to not lean on him too much. And then I forgot how to be vulnerable, how to ask to have my needs met. Because every once in a while I need to remind myself that he can’t read my mind. He can’t magically know my needs. Nor should he have to.
By the end of our conversation, hugs were given, tears were shed, a new level of understanding was reached.
He loves me. He really, really loves me.
I woke up yesterday morning at 4:30 a.m. with a renewed sense of purpose. By 5:00 I hit the road. It felt good. It gave me the opportunity to mull so many things over in my mind, as these long runs always do. By the time I arrived home, I was feeling strong and confident. Amazing what a great run can do. At this point I was thinking about the marathon, but still not ready to commit to anything in my mind.
On my walk to work I was still mulling things over. I was thinking about all the pressure that I’ve been putting on myself with this. I started wondering, deep down, if I really could do this or not….particularly with the finish time that I’ve had my eye on.
And then, the little voice in me, loud and clear came through. It had a very important question to ask. The voice said, “So what? What’s the WORST outcome of this marathon weekend?”
I realized that the worst outcome would be having a crappy finish time. As soon as this thought came to me, the Little Voice popped up again. “So what?”
And then I thought about why it would bother me. And the answer was pride. Because those times when I set out on my long runs this summer I wasn’t worried about my time. I just wanted to get out there and run for the pure joy of running. For the challenge. So I could know that I did it. But attaching a timing chip to my shoe shouldn’t change that.