That's been me these past couple of weeks. In terms of running, I mean.
There's an under-the-weather Snoog in the house at the moment. Typical toddler cold. He's not so sick that he has to lie around the house in his jammies, but he's not so well that he sleeps all night by himself (who am I kidding? Child doesn't sleep all night by himself when he's perfectly healthy, but that's another post). The executive decision was made that he was going to go ahead and spend this Tuesday morning as he usually does: at school. No fever, no coughing, no copious snot, so off he went. I figured I'd spend Tuesday morning as I usually do - at the Y taking a class, with a run afterward to build up my mileage for the week in an effort to improve my performance on the weekends.
I didn't have a lot of time to spend running, but I managed to get in a very comfortable couple of miles. Along the way it became clear what my problem has been for these past couple of weeks: I have become the funsucker. There was a time in my training when I was running because I enjoyed it, and then I started getting all concerned about pace per mile and how fast other people were running the same distance and being a purist about NO WALKING (backfire!)....and I started feeling anxiety and dread every time it was time to run. No more fun, just work work work. I lost sight of the idea that I should be ENJOYING this - that race day isn't part of my job, that it's going to be FUN.
Suddenly it was time for me to hop off the mill and retrieve the kiddo. As I was walking to the car - in the pouring rain, lovely! - it occurred to me how much I enjoyed those easy couple of miles and how much better I felt. No need to criticize my performance or wonder what I should tweak for the next run.
I take that back. Next run, I need to remember to have fun.