Ok, I know that I shouldn't compare myself to others. It's stupid, and is a recipe for dismay and heartbreak. Last night, however, I was thinking as I ran about my performance and the ways it has and hasn't changed over the last couple of years. I got to wondering about how I will do in the Disneyland 1/2 in September, and then my inner Eeyore kicked in with this gem: No matter how much you train, Tricia will probably blow right past you now that she's quit smoking, whether she trains or not.
What a bitch my inner Eeyore is! That's just mean! Besides, it doesn't matter. Our first 1/2, she came in ahead of me, this last one, behind me, and it didn't really matter one bit either time. I don't know why I let my brain sass me like that sometimes.
In fat-assedness news, I am becoming progressively more angry with my scale. It's down three pounds, up five pounds, down two, up one. I know our bodies wax and wane and carry extra water for various reasons. (I do love my sodium!) Even so, the downward trend has not really happened in a while. I dropped eight lbs. right out of the gate at the end of May, but spent all of June just wobbling back and forth up and down the same five pounds, even though I'm doing everything right. Frustrato. On the upside, the body fat percentage has gone down, which does support my "water, water, everywhere" theory. Blar. I have this fantastic vision of reaching goals and having smaller numbers, but reality is not playing nice with my dreams!
Clearly, I'm traveling through a patch of negative thinking. Gotta figure out how to turn it around!
1 comment:
In which case you should look at me and think more highly of yourself as a runner. Besides, Tricia has freak genetics. Her brother can run tanked to the max. That's just not normal.
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