If I start doing backflips off of buildings, it's probably been a couple days since I've worked out.
Getting motivated to work out alone in sub-30 degree weather has a way of evoking philosophical and psychological turmoil.
Translation: I want to work out, but I don’t. And I feel like I have to, but who would know if I didn’t? Being an athlete is about doing what you’re told: Go to practice. Do your lifting. Run faster. So when a month-long break comes around, it’s like a kid’s first time home alone. It can be overwhelmingly…free.
Unfortunately, that freedom lasts for about 2.5 hours before I’m struck by what I’ll call “runner’s remorse.” As it turns out, guilt is a great motivational tool. It starts with the thought: I need to run. Then it becomes physical with the muscle twitching, the guilty butterflies and the random acts of athleticism (i.e. running up the stairs extra fast or jogging to the car). Before I know it, I’m trying to run on snow and ice, slipping around with wind tears and snot freezing to my face.
For athletes, a long break like this is the ultimate test of how much you want success in your sport. That runner’s remorse is telling me that this is what I want. I want to run track, and I want to be good at it. However, with three semesters left of school, my impending life without track is sneaking into mind. With no scheduled practices or lifting, that life is becoming more real. Balancing current obligations with thoughts of the future is proving to be more difficult than I expected.
I guess it’s a matter of taking it one day at a time. Worrying about what I can do now to be successful makes life so much more tolerable. And peeling my butt off the couch and working out is worth getting rid of these guilty butterflies that are currently eating my stomach.
So on that note, I’m going on a run.
