run

Free Run, Day 3

Saturday, September 15th, 2023 

POST-RUN MORTUM

Time Running: 34:04 

Distance Achieved: 2.41

Tunage: Coldplay

Running Milestone: Ran Through Cemetary 

Oh my friends.

Today tested the willpower portion of our program, let me tell you. The nausea is still with me, raging like a Victorian-era ship in a superstorm, and I had the thought several times today to stop. But then, another thought arose. I am going to be onboarding this medication for several weeks and will not be at the highest, final dose before this 5K. Which means that this nausea is going to be my little buddy for a while. Now, again, I’ve been through this before with the previous medication, so I know what to expect in a lot of ways. And true, while I wasn’t training for a 5K last time, I was in tech, and it was intense and physical, and your girl logged some steps, #literally #thestairsofitall. So I know that I can handle it. Also, I don’t want to use the nausea as an excuse to stop. But wowzer if today in particular was not rough. Did I make it as far on this run as I maybe would like? 
No. 
Does that have to be ok, or rather just, is that ok? 
One thousand percent. 
And it is. 

I think 2.41 miles on a stomach that feels like a the teacups ride at Disney is nothing to scoff at. Like I said, there were several times where I thought about stopping. My mom came out with me this morning, mostly because I think she didn’t want me running through the flats on my own – you really are the best, Jo. You make the sun shine down – but also, I think because she knew how nauseous I was feeling, and if anything happened, if I keeled over or needed to literally call it quits, she could come and collect me expediently. And she almost needed to. I finished running this long stretch of farmland called The Flats, and the thought of doubling back and repeating that four times felt annoying, so I continued on into the side streets of the little downtown area of Farmington. Let me tell you what, I dind’t relaize how fucking hilly this road was. Which makes sense, I’ve only ever driven on it, but you’d think I would remember rolling hills with some serious lift to them. But this is where the mindset of it all comes into play, right? Because I did want to stop. The worst moment happened, ironically, in the cemetery where I nearly doubled over from a wave that rolled through me, but then I noticed a speed bump maybe fifty feet ahead of me. And then I started to have a little conversation with myself. 

Just get to the speed bump. 
Ten more paces, nice and easy, all the way to the speed bump. 
You can make it there, I know you can. 

And then I was at the speedbump, and another wave rolled up from my toes, threatening to take me down, and I found another marker further down the road. 

Just make it to that stop sign. 
To that building.  
To the hydrant.
 See that tree? 
You can make it to that tree. 
Take your time, you got this. 

And y’all, when I say I had this conversation with myself, I mean literally. Verbally. Audibly. Anyone who may have driven by or the man walking his doodle, they must have thought I was crazy, shuffling along and muttering to myself. And listen, maybe I am. But the way I spoke to myself took me aback. I spoke words of encouragement. I spoke words of empowerment. I cursed, yes, but you bet your ass even that was fucking hopeful. 

When I tell you I have never done that before. In my life. And this is the thing about this process that has been, for lack of a millennial word, healingasfuck. The way I speak to myself is changing. It is becoming softer. It is becoming more like the voice I use with the people I love in my life. 

I don’t know. I didn’t enter into this process expecting that. By now you know how unmercifully hard I can be on myself. And there are a lot of upsides to that sort of mentality. It pushes me to be the best version of myself, to put out my best work, but I’m realizing that for so long, it has come at the cost of my own self-love. And that change is thrilling to feel. Every day, little by tiny.