I'm Not Well. Come See for Yourself.

I'm almost too pooped to sit up but I simply must post something. The world might stop revolving if I don't put my two cents in.

I worked today, that's the bad news. Well, not really. For one thing, I didn't have to fight with myself to get out of bed this morning because I'm expected at work at 8:00. Another positive is that my job definitely helps my husband and I pay our bills. Thirdly, if I feel unmotivated and my self-esteem is droopy when I awaken, interacting with my co-workers, my boss and the dental patients who come in that day, forces me to rise up out of the muck. Acting perky and cheerful when I really don't feel that way eventually turns things around for me. Even if the entire day is a struggle, I come away from my job with the satisfaction that I did my job and hopefully helped make a difference for at least one person that day. I fear if I were home alone for long periods of time, I'd probably dig a hole and then wallow around in it.

I intended to get my exercise during my lunch break by doing an upper body workout at the Y on the weight machines. As the morning hours passed and I observed the weather conditions through the window by my desk, I discarded my initial workout plan. My thoughts went like this. I rested yesterday. It's sunny and near 70 degrees today. I don't have time for much of a bike ride. I've got to be outdoors. Yeah, I know I ran the day before yesterday but I'm ready to do it again. (The silent majority of my thoughts whispered that running 3.1 miles was the least enjoyable thing I could do with this perfectly lovely hour. Relaxing isn't a sin. Pushing yourself to run that far isn't fun. You know that).

I calculated the calories I would burn and the training benefits I would reap. That cinched it, end of discussion. I drove the five minutes from work to my home. I undressed and donned my running gear. Away I went and within a few minutes, I was once again immersed in the discomfort that running brings. Thirty-three minutes later, I stopped when I came to our yard and walked around to the back of the house. I wanted my privacy. I noticed a few neighbors enjoying the nice weather, doing sane things like fertilizing their lawns or washing their cars. I was breathing so hard and felt so spent that I just wanted to walk around for a few minutes in the back yard all by myself.

I was sweating pretty good when I went in the house. I didn't have time to shower so I peeled off my damp shorts, shirt and underwear, dried off, put on some deodorant, and redressed in my work clothes. I recorded my running time. My stopwatch showed 33 minutes and 48 seconds, better than Tuesday's run. Today's time included a quick run up our next door neighbor's driveway at the start of my run. Carol was outside. She lost her husband last week and I couldn't run by without first giving her a hug. I'm thinking I must've ran about a minute faster than I did on Tuesday. Hey, now that's a plus. All of the sudden, the discomfort I'd just recovered from became less significant. Yes, I have to say that running is similar to childbirth. How quickly the physical pain is forgotten and replaced with joy.

As if the run wasn't challenge enough for today, my two monthly checking account statements showed up in my e-mail today. So after supper, I sat at our pub table in the kitchen and balanced them with my checkbooks. I wasted about fifteen minutes on one of the accounts just because I was using the wrong record book balance when I deducted the outstanding checks. I recalculated all the deposits, checks and debits before I caught my mistake. I did get the job done and now that task won't rear its ugly head for another month. As quickly as I forget misery, in a day or two I'll probably offer to balance the neighbors checkbooks just for the challenge of it.

I'm not well, am I?