I hadn't run since last week after I made a lousy, half-ditched effort before throwing in the proverbial towel. Oh, what a wuss. I hated myself. But then again, I had a stomach bug, it was too cold to take the baby out--you name it, I had an excuse at the ready.
Since my normal tendency is to be manically busy, I naturally began an internal, verbally abusive conversation with myself. It went something like this:
"You think you're so good and really you're such a loser."
"Look at this house. Why can't you keep it clean. What's wrong with you?"
"Nobody likes you. Why would anybody like you?"
"Go ahead. Eat those Oreos."
Oh, I can be so mean to myself. Why? Why am I like that?
But today...today I did it. I went for a run.
And you know what? I am a pretty good person. I'm not a loser. And the house isn't as messy as I thought it was. And if people don't like me then that's fine. There are other people who do like me.
And the Oreos? I plead the fifth.
P.S. I had to look up Resuscitate in the dictionary and the dictionary naturally fell open to Runner which, for the record, is defined as one who runs :)