Sometimes your Ego needs a bit of a boost. I don’t mean you need a healthy heap of happy-go-lucky confidence (a la Ryan Gosling telling you hey girl, you’re worthy) – I mean you need enhanced Ego, specifically.
You know her: Miss Ego is fierce, pushy, competitive, butt-kicking and self-serving. She’s hot stuff and knows it. She doesn’t try her best, she is the best.
She hinges on a delicate balance — nobody likes a jerk with a too-inflated sense of self worth. But there are times when Ego has taken a hit and needs bolstered, and we don’t like to cater to it for fear of feeling conceited or obnoxious or narcissistic. We may not even recognize that’s what we need.
Something in life might take a sizable bite out of my Ego and then the effects build on themselves to sink me down deep, the tide pulling me out progressively farther from feeling grounded if I let it. Depression and anxiety work through a similar mechanism. (Ego being the antagonistic mirror opposite twin to self doubt makes these things interconnected.) It can happen behind my back and right under my nose. Continue reading
“Why don’t you just do some fast walking instead?” my doctor said, after I told her about the girly cramping I’d experienced during my first preggo run in almost two months. “We’ve got a good baby here!”
This is a far cry from what I expected to hear. In fact, I was sure she’d be supportive of me jogging while pregnant. I’d been waiting out the first trimester like a good girl, after the nurse practitioner told me early on I should avoid running until I was further along. I was fueled by knowing I’d get that green light soon enough.
My doctor is really wonderful, and I know she just has my best interest at heart. But my internal reaction to this news was fivefold: Continue reading
There were cobwebs everywhere on my run yesterday.
I mean the gross, sticky strings that slap you in the face out of nowhere and defy nature because they seem to be attached to nothing in particular. They’re just hanging around in the air, invisible, waiting to surprise you.
I think my running route was sending me a message with these. Like: neglect me for three weeks and this is what happens. I collect cobwebs.
Okay, message delivered. I didn’t mean to neglect you, running route. It’s just that I get on these kicks where I like to take running breaks for a physical and mental rest. And these “kicks” easily and quickly slide into a life’s-too-busy-for-running routine, and then what was intended to even me out has put me all off kilter. Continue reading
Runners are masochists, sometimes.
I felt that way today as I went head-to-head again with 12 miles.
Twelve and I have a shaky past together. The last rendezvous we had was November of last year, when I suffered a debilitating, stabbing pain in my hip/glute/back-of-thigh area that sidelined me from running for a few months. I blame this on wearing all-wrong shoes and following an all-wrong/ too intense training plan for a 10k race.
It’s not you, it’s me, 12.
“Running is a big question mark that’s there each and every day. It asks you, ‘Are you going to be a wimp or are you going to be strong today?'” Peter Maher, Canadian marathon runner
Today I embark on a 12-week training climb toward a race distance I’ve been eyeing for almost a year now: the half marathon. Until now, this rookie runner has been too chicken to tackle that distance.