Last Thursday was R U OK Day, and I posted that yes, now, I was OK. But that’s the thing about being OK. Some days you are, some days you aren’t. Some days are harder than others and some days, well, they’re just downright miserable.
I was almost in tears this morning because I was going to personal training. If anyone has been following my fitness journey, I’ve been running and PTing for months now. Almost 4 months of PT and 6+ months of running. But last Wednesday I hurt my back, so I didn’t go, and I used it as an excuse to take the rest of the week off. I say “excuse” but maybe it was more like a legitimate reason? Either way, I hadn’t exercised since last Monday (I’m not counting tennis, I could barely move!).
But what I’ve learned is me without exercise, when I’m having a full on boozy and cake-filled weekend, means tears and the grumps come Monday morning. When you are not exercising due to injury, that is the worst time to indulge in (too much) wine and (too much) cake. I was scared on my way to PT this morning, scared that I wouldn’t keep up, that I’d vomit, that I’d hurt myself, and I just wanted to go home and crawl back in to bed for the day.
I’ve also learned that you can’t, well, shouldn’t, try to jam as much into a weekend as possible. I am certain that being on the go all weekend contributed to my mood this morning. We barely had 10 minutes down time. Though, that’s not entirely true, I had a good 3.5 hour “nap” (ok, I passed out from too much wine) Saturday afternoon. I woke up hung over at 8pm and needed water, panadol and McDonalds, stat. Luckily I’m married to an awesome man who brought me all 3, in bed! On a serious note, that is the evil side of alcohol. An entire evening was ruined because I couldn’t/didn’t control myself. And, most likely, my intake of alcohol and junk food probably contributed to this morning’s mental breakdown as well.
Have you ever been on-the-go consistently for so long that your body just said, right, that’s enough, I.Am.Done! I feel I’m at that point. I work 33 hours a week, I train/run approximately 4 hours a week, we run from one activity to the next on Wednesdays, my day off, that it doesn’t even feel like a day off! Then we jam as much as we can into weekends. And I wonder why I am exhausted. If I was a celebrity I’d be checking myself into a mental health facility. I need a holiday. New Zealand is not coming fast enough!
The ironic part of this whole story, is that once I got through training, once I worked, and sweated, and moved, I felt better. I know something has to give, but I am not prepared for it to be my training/running. It is the one thing that keeps me sane, and actually makes me feel good about myself.
I am sure I have thrown myself into all these things to take my mind off other things. But it doesn’t work. There are constant reminders. And no matter how busy I make myself, it’s not going to make it go away, or fix things. I just haven’t figured out how to do that yet, so until then I keep going. I keep breathing, I keep working, I keep smiling and I keep living. And I keep reminding myself what brings on my bad days, and I make sure that I am OK. Because I don’t like the alternative.