I have a dream that someday, just maybe, I’ll be able to be the same person I used to.. But I can never get back there if I don’t pinpoint the ways in which I changed…
It’s a lot. So, buckle in (if you want)… I’m not positive this will be interesting for other people to read, but hopefully for me, I can look back on it in a year or two (or whenever), and perhaps a list like this will help me to see what I was struggling with, and have some kind of barometer to see how things changed(? – hopefully). Who knows…
…All I know is I personally felt I needed to make a list in how I was being affected. And if you’re interested, you can come along with me on this list! So, here’s the best I could come up with…]
Let’s start with some of the ways I define myself.
1) An athlete
I pride myself on being an ultramarathoner. My San Francisco half marathon time last year was my fastest ever.
(And look at how small I was! (Even if at the time I felt fat, like always (oof – that maybe doesn’t sound super healthy, but let’s breeze on past it).))
I used to complain about how hard it was to get in shape after all my time in the hospital. And not only did I finally get back to it, I surpassed it.
Whereas, my San Francisco full marathon time this year was, I think, my slowest road marathon to date. Slowest.
It wasn’t the one immediately (literally the day after) finishing the 52 half marathons in 52 weeks (trying to come back from open-heart surgery), when you’d think my body would be so tired.
It wasn’t the one in the sweltering heat of Los Angeles where I got a sunburn like whoa… Nope.
This one. The one that should’ve been triumphant, and swell, and fun. Was my worst one yet.
I had such a hard time training.
I love to run and to work out. Running and working out is how I deal with stress. It’s how I process my thoughts and work out stuff that I need to figure out my feelings on…
And if I go work out now, and my thoughts start to drift to what my brain is trying to deal with currently – that night, or any nights that led to that night, or any other horrific night with him… I get overwhelmed. Sometimes I get physically ill. Sometimes I cry during workouts.
Sometimes I just push on through them with tears in my eyes, but I still usually slow down, and as embarrassing as it is to admit, most often, I just stop, give up, and go home. It’s crummy.
I have never before wanted to surrender all my glorious workout time (where I usually like the opportunity to contemplate any/all thoughts on anything). Working out used to seem fun/exciting/helpful. And now it seems weirdly scary.
And the more my body gets a little flabby, and I do a little less, the easier it is to get a little flabbier… and do a little less, still. And the harder it is to be my normal workout athletic self. And that sucks. So, I feel like this bad cycle is starting and kinda exponentially growing.
And I’m obviously still going, somewhat. After all, I did running events throughout the year So, I’m not like, not doing my stuff completely. I’m just not doing it to the level I’d like to be doing it (or having the joy during it that I’d like to).
And I’m seeing it slipping away. And I want that to stop. (And I know it’s up to me to make it stop… I’m trying… But I’m not successfully there yet.)
And this is where I’ll pick up tomorrow.
[This is from the sexual assault series.]