A relaxing morning with delicious French Press coffee (thanks to my Mom for the Starbucks giftcard, which I used to buy the Press) was followed by a creative and less-relaxing afternoon of trying to figure out the block for the Star Trails quilt I am making for my friend’s baby girl.
By 4:30, it was clear to me that I had missed the boat on a run. Darkness was falling quickly and the headache that had developed was nagging me to curl up in my bed and close my eyes.
Then suddenly it hit me.
That urge to hurry and go.
So I answered the call and bundled up, tightened up my shoes, and went for it.
How did I get so lucky to live where I live?
It’s been pretty cold here the past few weeks, with nonstop snow the week before Christmas till the week after. Today was a break from all that madness. The sun shine melted the snow from the roof, growing the icicles another 6 inches. By the time I got out the door to run, it felt like a mild winter evening; peaceful and brisk.
I ran two miles in the silence of a River Meadows winter wonderland. I didn’t care what my pace was or what my time was, or how far I was going. I was just enjoying the moments – each one of them, as I put one foot in front of the other and moved.
I love Oregon.
I have come to a realization this weekend, that I easily feel like a failure, or not quite good enough, or some variation far too often. It’s not that I lack self-esteem. I’m not a mumbling shy person. I am just extremely hard on myself. I set expectations that most people, under the best of circumstances, couldn’t meet. One of my silent New Year Resolutions was to stop beating myself up over stupid things.
And so, this weekend I have made the active decision to not count calories. To not weigh myself. To not time my runs. To not clock my runs. Instead I want to care that I am being healthy, both physically and emotionally. I don’t care if Almond Butter is high in fat. It’s also packed with nutrients. I don’t care if I overate at dinner. Because dinner was packed full of healthy food! I don’t care that I ran a 12 minute mile. Because I ran.
In a few months, when my fitness base is built back up again and I am a little closer to race day, yes: I will care about my time and my distance. And at some point I might care about my calories and my weight. But right now, what matters more to me is the fact that I am moving on a daily basis, caring about the food I put in my body, and being nice to Katy.
It feels good to have gotten a nice (little) run in this afternoon, despite almost talking myself out of it. And, now that I am back inside and have downed yet another tasty and nutritious smoothy, it feels good to be working on my creative side again.