Don’t Feel Like It

I don’t blog much anymore because I don’t feel like it.  I don’t feel much of anything other than a dull sense of unhappiness.  I don’t feel like running and when I do it hurts.  I don’t want to get on my bike and I definitely don’t want to go to the pool.  My weight is starting to skyrocket and I am helpless to control myself from eating all of the time.  I should at least cut out the carbs and snack on something else.

I am completely sick of the way I am feeling.  This is not the way it should be.  If I could at least run pain free, run until I am so tired I couldn’t take another step I think things would be better.  However, I am afraid to even go out the door for fear of getting a mile from home and completely falling apart.  I hate that long walk back home after a failed running attempt.

This past Saturday, I convinced @aristorat to wait until the afternoon to go for a run.  As we went out he lamented how he had to wait for me, since by the time we went it was piss pouring rain.  I got about a mile with him and had to stop.  My leg hurt and I had absolutely nothing in me.  I left him to limp my way back home.  Actually, I didn’t even limp home as I exited Prospect Park and saw a yellow cab at the corner.  I saw it as a sign from G-d that I wasn’t meant to run today and just took it home.  If that wasn’t a sign, then perhaps I am just becoming supremely lazy and accepting the temptation of Satan.  Maybe that’s my problem, I’ve become possessed by a nasty demon.  Does anyone know an Exorcist?

Not to go off topic, but I saw the Exorcist when I was 9 years old, during a time when I spent many hours alone in my aunt’s secluded house in the middle of suburbia. Yah, my parents had ample discretion in what they would allow me to see.

On Sunday I did manage to squeak out a 7 mile run with my daughter accompanying me on her bike.  Let’s just say it was supremely slow.  I would have liked to have gone longer, but time didn’t permit that and truth is, I would have been walking very soon anyway. 

My goal from this point forward is to just make it through the NYC Marathon.  After that, I think I will do nothing.  I think both my mind and body is asking me to just chill out for a while.  I can’t force this anymore as it is just not working.  Everyone tells me I should just keep going, but I feel like a dog with an electric collar that zaps him every time he gets to an invisible line.  Eventually he learns not to do that anymore.