Taking a break
I ordered a rug and cancelled that same rug three different times this weekend. I’m not sure what Clayton means when he says I’m “indecisive” and that I’m “annoying”.
I just want things to be done right the first time. I’m notorious for changing my mind so in order to prevent myself from getting the rug and eventually changing my mind and ultimately buying something else, I changed my mind like 50 times upfront. You know, to save myself the hassle later. Surely this makes sense to someone, right?
Clayton already thinks that I’m going to change the name of our child before it gets to preschool. I wanted to be mad when he said it, but he’s probably right.
But this rug is like, a cool brown and most of our stuff is warm brown and I’m not sure if it will go together and I hate the fact that I obsess over color tones to the point that I made a tiny 3'x3' rug a major life decision. And it’s not even an exciting color; it’s BROWN. I was positive that the explosive popularity of the color “greige” would make my life easier because hey, it can be cool or warm! But it just made everything WORSE. Now my home décor is having a major identity crisis.
I decided to take an entire week off of running and strenuous exercise, so in case you can’t tell, I’m trying to focus my energy on something else … like rugs.
^^At least I'm not getting a rug made from the butt of a skunk. A skunk butt rug.
See, I attempted to run on Sunday morning and it was disastrous, yet again. Since I'm to the point where I can no longer tell if this kind of disappointment makes me feel incredibly sad or incredibly angry, I prescribed myself some mandatory rest. I’m taking the next week to reset and hopefully recharge my batteries, limiting myself to only walking and light core strength to continue protect my back. How I feel after this week will be the barometer for whether or not I’ll sign up for the Monumental Marathon in November.
You have no idea how upsetting it is to admit that I might not do my favorite race. Every runner has a favorite race, one that they consider “theirs” and the Monumental Marathon is mine. I seriously can’t even stomach it. If push comes to shove, I’ll at least sign up for the 5k and hobble my way through the course because I can’t miss it.
I think my biggest fear is that nothing will change, even after a week of rest. I’m fearful that my best running is behind me. Yes, I know that sounds dramatic, but if you had the same past 8 months I've had, you'd be worried about it, too.
Regardless, I don’t wanna be a Debbie Downer today. I get a full week of extra rest and the excuse to put my feet up.
But boy was I in a MOOD on Friday afternoon, so I asked Clayton to take a sunset walk with me along Lake Monroe. Watching the sun slide behind the trees dotting the lake was both refreshing and relaxing. I grew up in a city with large lakes (and several other lakes nearby) and sitting by the water is one of my very favorite things.
After our evening stroll, we went for ice cream and I ordered a sundae with a giant dinosaur sugar cookie sticking out of the top because I’m five. It's the small things that brighten your day, am I right?
Then I woke up this morning to the sound of wind whipping against the side of the house. As I walked on the treadmill (why yes, I will get up early to exercise if I only have to walk), I could barely hear the news over the gusts of wind blowing outside. A massive storm was rolling in and I was EXCITED.
I love gray clouds. I love storms. Even though I got completely soaked running into the building from the parking lot (despite having an umbrella), I felt hopeful. Though slightly inconvenient when driving in to work, I felt like like this morning’s downpour was God’s way of telling me that it was all going to be okay.
It may be stormy, but it’ll pass.
^^That was a metaphor. Did you get it?
No really, did you get it?