“For some reason I can never reach what I’m aiming for and I always fall short of the finish line… Those that know me can see this. I rarely finish things that I start and whenever I set myself a goal I always end up settling for the…….”
No word of a lie, that above quote was what I found when I opened up the last draft of this blog that I wrote about 3 weeks ago. I think it proves my point perfectly, doesn’t it? I’m never really good at finishing what I start.
Despite this, I have actually surprised myself by keeping up with the weekly runs since the last time I blogged and have constantly managed to fit in at least 3 runs a week. I started to lose motivation last week and really felt myself getting bored with running, but after choosing a brand new route and downloading some new music I was ready to run again. Sort of.
The first run went ok, but I’m still struggling with keeping myself motivated as I run. I’ve read countless things on keeping yourself motivated and it basically all boils down to ignoring the little man in your head who’s telling you to stop. The voice is telling me it’s too hard and I’m too tired. He’s telling me “At least you’re out running a little bit, it doesn’t matter how fast or for how long, it’s better than nothing, right buddy?” and I try to fight against him but he’s arguments are always smarter than mine!
“Why are you out here running for? You don’t need to lose weight, it’s not as if you have women to impress? You have a lovely girlfriend who loves you for who you are. She likes you being snuggly. You’re her big cuddly bear.” He says. I try to argue with him and explain that she’s probably just being nice because she loves me. I’m not an idiot, I know she would like me slimmer and more attractive, who doesn’t want their partner to look their best?
Then he pipes up with “Man, you’re so vain. Since when have your looks got you anywhere anyway? It’s personality that counts and you know for a fact the slimmer you get, the less funny you get. It’s been proven.” I’m inclined to agree with him, as it does seem to be that way. Exercise and watching what you eat certainly makes you feel boring. “That’s right” he says, nodding his head and grinning at me. I look at him and tell him that can’t be true, I’m just the same no matter what weight I am, in fact I’m happier when I’m slimmer and far less likely to be grumpy and a lot more amiable.
He sneers at me and spits on the floor.
I gain some confidence and begin my own argument; I say to him that surely the most precious thing we have is our health, and by getting fit I’m improving my chances of living a long and happy life, I get to spend more time with the people I love and grow old.
He silently watches me then begins laughing out loud, right in my face. “You really think that’s the meaning of life? To grow old? Sure, you get to live longer and you get to spend more time with the people you love… But you also get to stick around and see them die. One by one. You only lose things as you get older, why the hell would you want to stick around for that? You want to die at age 52, face down in an apple crumble, that’s the way to go.”
He’s mental.
….
Is he?
….
Am I?
….
You probably think so, by now. But this is what goes on in my head EVERY TIME I RUN.
I think sometimes I’m too smart to argue with myself. Which is possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever said, but I’m still going to leave that sentence in. Fuck it.
Next run: Wednesday 14th September.
Wish me luck.
