Hitting a wall

Well, as you’ve noticed I haven’t written in a few weeks. I’ve been attempting to run — not very hard, though — but I’ve hit a wall and am getting pretty darn discouraged. I need help!

When I’m doing well, I’m more likely to persevere and keep going. But because I don’t feel like I’m really progressing at all (probably because I’m just not trying very hard), my training has kind of diminished. I can usually run about two miles if I really push myself, but any more than that and I’m dying.

Does anyone else have this problem? If so, what do you do to push yourself through the wall?

Ready to run

I decided to start running again. Well, I started running again earlier this summer but with no real schedule or goal. But a few weeks ago I decided to start seriously training for an 8k in Richmond (of course) in November because I tend to perform better with a deadline. Go figure.

It’s obvious when trying on my clothes every morning that I haven’t exactly kept up my winter/spring workout routine. Jeans that had once gotten loose and baggy now fit again. I hate it, but the only thing I can do is get back on the treadmill. Or hit the road, now that the temperature has finally dropped a few degrees.

I started last week and ran the first day’s two-mile assignment without dying. Awesome. Day 3 was only one mile, which I ran above and beyond with fellow reporter SB because we’d underestimated the distance from my house to a shop up the street. Unfortunately, however, I missed Day 4’s two-mile run because of a long work day but got back on track yesterday for Day 6, another two miles.

Total for this week: 5.6 miles. You gotta start somewhere, right?

Schedule for this week: Monday, two miles. Wednesday, one mile. Thursday, two miles. Saturday, three miles. Total: 8 miles.

Fingers crossed I can keep this up. I tend to get really excited and gung-ho about things like this at the beginning, then find reasons to quit halfway through. I’m hoping that by blogging about it, I’ll have a reason to hold myself accountable. That also means if I have a bad week and slack off, I’m going to need your support to keep me going. Deal?

If you do that for me, I’ll do it for you. So let me know what goals you’re trying to accomplish and I’ll be your cheerleader. Go team!

Living up to my own philosophies

“Did you ever think that maybe if you’re not happy it’s because of you?”

-Stephen Kellogg

I’ve been in Danville for a little more than two months. And when people ask me how it’s going, I find myself taking a deep breath and exhaling a wistful, “oh, it’s fiiine.” I really can’t complain. It is fine. I’m not unhappy. But I’m not particularly ecstatic, either.

I guess it’s hard to compare my current situation with my last, which was simply exquisite if only because of the pure novelty of that place. It was my first home, outside of my parents’ and college. It was a place and experience that was new and refreshing, and it was all mine. I made it for myself. So it’s hard for me to fall completely in love with Danville the way I did with Culpeper, because I’ve already done it. It’s sort of like I’m “just not that into” Danville.

photo by Declan McCullagh

For the Fourth of July, I visited my best friend (CB the law student) in New York, where she’s spending the summer. Walking through the hipster-chic streets in the Village and Chelsea, through the quiet beauty in Central Park, through the insane crowds in Midtown, I longed to live in a city. A real city. I did that once, in Spain. I spent four months in Valencia and I did things while living abroad that would terrify me in the United States. Things like traveling completely alone, like relying on an unfamiliar public transit system, like really living without restraints. The smells of New York City streets — that slightly sour, almost dirty smell — made me miss Valencia and my semester there as if it were a best friend I’d lost touch with.

I think that’s what appeals to me so much about Richmond, a city so rich with history and architecture. When I’m downtown, or walking through the Fan — I feel almost like I’m back in Europe, where I felt such exuberance and independence from my own intimidation. New York reminded me of that, and seeing CB navigate her way flawlessly through the metropolitan maze reminded me that I was once so able.

To be blunt, Danville suffocates me a little. To explore, I have to drive aimlessly. Downtown is definitley within walking distance, but most of it is vacant and empty. Driving around the city bores me, and I find myself falling into an inconvenient rut. I get to work late enough that I could accomplish things in the morning if I woke up earlier, but I don’t. I work late enough that I can’t really accomplish anything after work because I’m exausted. I go out of town nearly every weekend and simply don’t make time for myself. Even this blog is getting painfully neglected.

And because of my self-inflicted schedule, I’ve let my once-dutiful workout regimen fall by the wayside. For a while I relied on the “my life fell apart” excuse, but it’s been four months and I’ve outworn it. My life is now back together. For the most part.

I really hate to sound like such a Debbie Downer, because it’s so out of character for me. But I guess we all have our moments, right? Wrong. Maybe that’s an OK excuse for you, but not for me. It seems I’m forgetting one of the pillars of my life philosophy: whatever you’ve got, make the most of it. Like Stephen Kellogg croons, “Did you ever think that maybe if you’re not happy it’s because of you?” In short, quit whining and make some changes. Or at least be thankful for what you’ve got.

Sometimes I cringe at the thought of making the effort to exercise, but the truth is, I miss running. I really do. I miss that exhilarating feeling of accomplishment when I surpassed one, two, three miles. Or when I dropped 5, 10, 15 pounds. That’s a high you can’t find anywhere else. I go on almost-daily walks with my friends, but I need to make time to run again.

And speaking of friends, I have made some seriously awesome ones in Danville who I miss when I’m gone on the weekends. And thankfully, they miss me too. They even told me so. When I mentioned last night that my birthday was next week, I got a resounding, “we know,” from my two girlfriends. I forget how lucky I am that I make friends so quickly.

This is your one chance at life. All you can do is make the most of it. Don’t spend your days wishing you were somewhere — or someone — else. And if you’re not happy, ask yourself why.