A most vicious cycle.

I'm convinced that Nate doesn't need me to tell him when I've exercised last.

If I'm happy, eating healthy, patient with the kids, semi on top of the housework, and referring to Kara Goucher as if she's a close personal friend, most likely it's within the past 24-26 hours.

If I'm pretty happy, eating decently, and mostly with it, it's been in the past few days.

If I'm crabby, snappy, messy...you get the idea.

There's a vicious cycle that somehow I'm on, and I HATE IT.

Last week I did not exercise.  Each day when I woke up I would have every intention of running on the treadmill, but somehow it didn't happen.  At all.

By Saturday night, I was a mess.  I told Nate I wanted to exercise, but when he suggested that he could watch the kids and clean up supper so that I could go downstairs and use the treadmill, I snapped.  I don't mean shouting and yelling, but something internally snapped.

Immediately my downhill slide turned into a spiral:
"Why should I exercise.  I'm never going to be able to be a fast runner.  I'm not going to lose weight.  It's not making me any healthier anyway.  Who am I trying to kid?  I look dumb when I'm on the treadmill.  I can't have Nate doing my work.  I need to take care of the kids.  It's too close to Abby's bedtime anyway...so I just won't exercise."

And somehow I manage to convince myself EVERY TIME that it's not worth it.  So I go longer without exercise.

And it frustrates me to no end.

And it drives Nate insane.

As long as I exercise every couple of days, I'm great.  If I skip a few days...a week...more...  Not good.  Would you believe that they weren't lying in health class, and in college, and in the media (and all over really), when they said that exercise makes you feel better?  It's true.

But this time, Saturday had happy ending.  Nate encouraged me, I swallowed whatever pride or fear or demons were inside me, and I ran.  I hadn't run in a little over a week, but I ran for five minutes longer than I usually ran.  And I felt good.  And I gave Nate a hug and thanked him (again) for putting up with me.  (Aside- Do you realize I snatched up the most amazing husband ever?  Sorry, people.  He's mine.)

Why do I let myself slide like this?  Why don't I place a higher priority on something that I know is so important?  I don't know. 

But I'm recognizing it. 

And I'm working on it.

And I ran again today.


Way to go! I guess the biggest obstacles are sometimes the mental ones, not the physical ones.

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