Disappointment

So, I was supposed to run 16 kilometers this morning as part of my training for the upcoming half marathon, and was barely able to eek out 10. And I likely walked two of them.

I did everything I was supposed to do: went to bed early, drank lots of water, only had two glasses of wine (and those who know me know how very, very, very, very, very difficult that was). The weather was nice, I had visualized the route the night before...the plan seemed complete.

Or not.

The thing that really pisses me off is that last year at this time, a 16k run was nothing to me. I guess I never really realized -- until today -- how far off track my running has become.

Now, if I would have written this post this morning, it would have had a completely different tone. I would have written about how this was so terrible, and how it made me feel about myself...blah, blah, blah. BUT, I have to admit, I'm not feeling so bad anymore.

The thing is, I like the way I live right now. I like going out, eating good food, sitting with the neighbours dowstairs on a nice evening, going for the occasional run in the mornings and on the weekends with my friends. Not that I plan on sitting around and becoming a Barba-Papa (although those things were TOTALLY COOL), but I don't think I want to have running and my weight rule my life the way it did before. Not today, anyhow.

I'm doing the half. Whether I walk it or run it, I'm doing it. And when I cross the finish line -- even if all the people are gone and the event has been torn down -- I'll think to myself 'self, you deserve a rum. Or eight'.

And then I'll fall down.