July 11, 2008 § Leave a comment
When I was in high school, I always found that a preemptive, remorseful confession to my mom about the poor grades on my upcoming report card always made her reaction to it gentle and sweet instead of terrifyingly livid. I was always so baffled by this hardly-credible phenomenon that I reserved this cherished tactic–like a favorite t-shirt or lucky pair of underwear or socks–for only very special occasions, when I felt my moral strength to be weakest.
That said, I have a confession to make.
I mentioned before that I had not been running (or practicing) well because I had not been sleeping well. Perhaps I have not been sleeping well in part because I have been eating like crap, in part because my room has persisted in being a dreadful mess for weeks without relief, and what kind of person can be expected to find such an environment sufficiently relaxing? And perhaps I have been eating like crap because the mess in our kitchen dissuades me from preparing healthy meals properly, and perhaps my room is a mess because I am just too tired to want to deal with it.
Well, whatever excuses I have are not important. These vices end now. No, perhaps that’s too declarative and storybook-like a statement. The truth is that I have been battling this, like everyone else does, for as long as I can remember, and hating myself (in varying degrees) continually for them. I don’t enjoy hating myself. I need to make this happen. For myself. For this marathon. For all these crazy goals and dreams I’ve been conjuring up for myself during these past couple of weeks. I won’t keep sinking into this slump; I’ll claw my way back to solid ground somehow.
I’m glad I have this marathon looming ahead of me. It’s giving me that extra prod right now to keep trying.