An Extraordinary Motivational Crisis
I am a perfectionist. I do not know my limits. I push and push until there's nothing left to push, and then I push a little more. And want a little confession? I worry that I have no idea what I'm doing about 95 percent of the time. And another confession? I'm fucking exhausted.
A few months ago I wrote about the myth of work/life balance, and I've had so many people ask me about it. I've been asked repeatedly how or if I've achieved that balance. I've said some stuff that sounds good like I have to find time to myself and time to exercise and time to unwind...blah, blah, blah. Do you want to know what's actually happened? I've decided that I have to give up something, and the thing that I've chosen is running. And exercise. And it's not sustainable. A decade ago I would've been motivated to exercise at 8:30 p.m. to help rectify this problem. My motivation was off the charts back then. Tonight I'm typing a blog and drinking a glass of wine because...well because that's all I'm motivated to do. It's been a really long day.
Today I looked at the schedule for the next two weeks and felt a crushing sense of stress over how busy it is both in the office and at home. We rarely have a free evening. We're heading to West Virginia to visit my mom this weekend which I need because that is my happy place. But we leave around noon on Friday and come home Sunday so it's a blip on the radar. By my last meeting today I felt like I was swimming underwater. I rallied to take my kid to the pool for a few hours. My kid was happy and having a blast, and for a little while I felt like I had it together.
Since college exercise has been my solace. It's been my way to relieve stress. It's been my companion. That turned specifically into running twelve years ago, and it has kept me sane. It is through running that I have discovered that my body, despite often betraying me through Crohn's, is so much stronger and faster than I could've imagined. I run to feel normal. I run because it's who I am.
And despite the bravado of my last post I'm suffering a motivational crisis of existential proportions. I've got a cough that's lingered for six weeks, and I just finished my fifth cycle of antibiotics and steroids. Yet my delightful cough is still hanging on. I tried to run last weekend, and I coughed the entire time. I feel like my body has layered on plenty of excuses for me to not run, and I've grabbed onto every one of them.
I've also suffered my entire life from a very distorted body image, and it's probably no surprise that my lack of running has left me in the worst shape of my life. I weigh more than I ever have and can't fit into many of my favorite dresses. I obsess over how much weight I've gained. During the worst of my bronchitis/sinus infection/post-viral cough a few weeks ago I coughed my face off during several horrendous workouts. The rational part of my brain told me to stop and take a minute. I can always lose a few pounds, but my body needs to heal. The part of my brain that obsesses over my body (and generally wins most arguments) is still fighting hard, telling me to ignore reason and health. I oscillate somewhere in the middle not exercising like I should and constantly beating myself up over it.
I've had a lot of people tell me they love the honesty in my writing, and this is about as honest as it gets. I remember the early days of Crohn's 20 years ago when I started law school three weeks after having my colon removed and hiked to the top of a mountain only to sprint down for a bathroom emergency. I have and continue to push myself, and I've let one of the most important coping mechanisms fall by the wayside. I have let my strong, amazing body become victim to that part of my brain where my motivation is zapped.
I still want to run three half marathons this year. I want to find my way back to myself: that groove where I wake up early and run. I want to have the world to myself and lose my frustrations in the rhythm of the run. I want my pants to fit and to feel strong and healthy. Right now that all feels very daunting.
My last confession? I don't have a thing figured out. Not one damn thing. Some days I feel like I can conquer the world, and some days, like today, I feel like I am faking every minute of the day. I objectively know how strong I am. I know what my body is capable of. I just need to take a little time today to let my mind catch up.
A few months ago I wrote about the myth of work/life balance, and I've had so many people ask me about it. I've been asked repeatedly how or if I've achieved that balance. I've said some stuff that sounds good like I have to find time to myself and time to exercise and time to unwind...blah, blah, blah. Do you want to know what's actually happened? I've decided that I have to give up something, and the thing that I've chosen is running. And exercise. And it's not sustainable. A decade ago I would've been motivated to exercise at 8:30 p.m. to help rectify this problem. My motivation was off the charts back then. Tonight I'm typing a blog and drinking a glass of wine because...well because that's all I'm motivated to do. It's been a really long day.
Today I looked at the schedule for the next two weeks and felt a crushing sense of stress over how busy it is both in the office and at home. We rarely have a free evening. We're heading to West Virginia to visit my mom this weekend which I need because that is my happy place. But we leave around noon on Friday and come home Sunday so it's a blip on the radar. By my last meeting today I felt like I was swimming underwater. I rallied to take my kid to the pool for a few hours. My kid was happy and having a blast, and for a little while I felt like I had it together.
Since college exercise has been my solace. It's been my way to relieve stress. It's been my companion. That turned specifically into running twelve years ago, and it has kept me sane. It is through running that I have discovered that my body, despite often betraying me through Crohn's, is so much stronger and faster than I could've imagined. I run to feel normal. I run because it's who I am.
And despite the bravado of my last post I'm suffering a motivational crisis of existential proportions. I've got a cough that's lingered for six weeks, and I just finished my fifth cycle of antibiotics and steroids. Yet my delightful cough is still hanging on. I tried to run last weekend, and I coughed the entire time. I feel like my body has layered on plenty of excuses for me to not run, and I've grabbed onto every one of them.
I've also suffered my entire life from a very distorted body image, and it's probably no surprise that my lack of running has left me in the worst shape of my life. I weigh more than I ever have and can't fit into many of my favorite dresses. I obsess over how much weight I've gained. During the worst of my bronchitis/sinus infection/post-viral cough a few weeks ago I coughed my face off during several horrendous workouts. The rational part of my brain told me to stop and take a minute. I can always lose a few pounds, but my body needs to heal. The part of my brain that obsesses over my body (and generally wins most arguments) is still fighting hard, telling me to ignore reason and health. I oscillate somewhere in the middle not exercising like I should and constantly beating myself up over it.
I've had a lot of people tell me they love the honesty in my writing, and this is about as honest as it gets. I remember the early days of Crohn's 20 years ago when I started law school three weeks after having my colon removed and hiked to the top of a mountain only to sprint down for a bathroom emergency. I have and continue to push myself, and I've let one of the most important coping mechanisms fall by the wayside. I have let my strong, amazing body become victim to that part of my brain where my motivation is zapped.
I still want to run three half marathons this year. I want to find my way back to myself: that groove where I wake up early and run. I want to have the world to myself and lose my frustrations in the rhythm of the run. I want my pants to fit and to feel strong and healthy. Right now that all feels very daunting.
My last confession? I don't have a thing figured out. Not one damn thing. Some days I feel like I can conquer the world, and some days, like today, I feel like I am faking every minute of the day. I objectively know how strong I am. I know what my body is capable of. I just need to take a little time today to let my mind catch up.
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