It’s been a game of two halves this week, as these football pundits like to say. This blog was going to be about my breathtaking achievement of running over 4k without a break.
I’m so glad I didn’t boast about this glory as when I went back to the gym two days later, I crashed and burned. What the hell happened? I couldn’t do more than two or three minutes without stopping for a walk. I couldn’t get into any kind of rhythm or pace. How could I possibly go from running 25 minutes to not even running five minutes?
After 10 minutes of misery, I came off the treadmill and thought right, I’m obviously not feeling it today so I’ll just do weights instead. But I couldn’t settle doing weights as I was so annoyed with myself.
So I got back on the treadmill and managed another five pathetic, half-walking, half-jogging, half-limping minutes.
I stormed home in a temper and burst into tears with my husband, who was having a lie-in and thought we’d been burgled. I stood there covered in sweat and tears and snot raging about the randomness of running and the fact I’d gone back to square one. And my poor husband hugged me and said, “Bloody hell love, you’re talking like Jessica Ennis. Do you think you’re hormonal because you’re being irrationally hard on yourself?”
And it’s true, I was indeed hormonal. Instead of focusing on my major achievement earlier in the week, all I could do was beat myself up. Okay, it hadn’t been a great run but I’d still run and a few weeks ago, any kind of running was unimaginable.
I am truly my own worst enemy but I’ve learnt a good lesson that no one is judging me apart from myself. I need to be kinder to myself, I need to be my own cheerleader. Go girl go! Just make sure this rubbish running doesn’t happen again for another 28 days!
Love #jigglingjugs x