Sunday I ran.
I got out of the house before I lost my mind at my little monkey who just refused to listen to me or to do anything that I wanted him to do or behave the way I wanted him to behave. I’m not sure when exactly my patience started to wear thin…during our morning trip to the park he ran out into First Lake to catch the ducks, he pulled at Stanley’s leash the whole time I was trying to get him in to, he tried to put his fingers in the kitchen aid WHILE the motor was running, he wouldn’t eat, he wouldn’t nap, he wouldn’t let go of the hammer, he wouldn’t keep his shoes on...and on and on the list goes.
Somewhere between his bath and trying to wrestle 32lbs of defiant toddler boy into PJ's I just gave up. I admitted defeat and told G that he had to take him and I needed to run.
Hitting the track felt good, I played Macy Gray’s Beauty in the World over and over as I ran trying to escape my day, trying to put it all in perspective. By lap 4, I had to talk to myself and push myself to get to lap 6. And then I realized how much better I felt when I got my run in and how far I had fallen in two weeks.
I’m not all that used to getting compliments and I realized that when I start to see changes and I start to get compliments and other people notice that I am changing, I fall off track. I think it’s no big deal I can have a cookie. One cookie probably would be fine…but I had three. Just that kind of stuff. I’m trying hard today to stay on track.
As much as I wish that one day I could just wake up skinny, I know that isn’t going to happen by itself. I hate that I have to take each day as it comes, plan and think about my choices. It sucks that one cookie can make such a difference in my day, in how I feel about myself.
I don't mean for this post to make it sound like I had a horrible weekend or that I don't love my life. I had a great weekend that included a challenging Sunday.