I’m a bit chagrined to remember my first thoughts on waking this morning — running through the day’s itinerary, I groaned at the thought of my regularly scheduled Wednesday run and felt rather put-upon at the idea of my hair appointment this afternoon. I love my stylist and always enjoy my sessions, and really, I love my runs as well. But I’ve been drawn to the notion of full-on hibernation lately, and the day-planner wasn’t cooperating.
In fact, I indulged in one of those internal conversations where my Disciplined Self reminded me that once I got out on the road, I’d feel better about my day, and my Inner Wimp Self wondered if it might be better for my training program if I took an extra day off. . . .
By the time I’d had my morning cuppa, thank goodness, I’d remembered that my word for the year is Joy, and recognized that the privilege of a hair-styling appointment could fit pretty well in the Joy column.
And I’d got my running gear on and my butt out the door, and it turned out that the crisp cold January day featured some sunshine and some pretty snazzy views and some winter blooms that make me think spring is possible. . . .
A good run, breakfast in town on the way to work, a great class, and then, yes, oh yes, a delightful, pampering visit with my hair-stylist. Now what was I whining about? (hangs head in shame).
Do you ever have days like that? Where activities seem to pile up, threaten to obliterate your happy, until you slow down and recognize that they’re actually pretty good activities, taken one by one. Or am I alone in my grumbles? And do you have some good techniques for getting you to or through your fitness activity of choice? Or does your own Inner Wimp triumph too often? (Really, I do think it’s important to indulge her occasionally.)
I have a good reason, actually, to keep “turning that frown upside down” — I’ll tell you soon. . . .
Your photos are always so beautiful. You capture both the panoramic and the little details so well. Sometimes I just get to feeling overwhelmed, and even things that I know I'll enjoy (like dinner with friends) feels like just another obligation on the calendar. But of course, once I get there I'm always so glad I did. I can understand how some people end up as reclusive. Looking forward to hearing about your new reason to smile…
Thanks, Sue. The views are there for the capture — I actually grabbed my camera when I stopped home between loops because I realized how gorgeous the world is, all over again. 😉
And yes, that's it — and I can get reclusive, but I know it's worth pushing myself out there, most of the time.
I have been having trouble getting out of bed at 6:30…have fallen back to sleep and waking again at 8:00 fully rested and ready to seize the day.
That sounds delightful. I'm usually awake by 5, and try to stay in bed 'til 6. Yesterday morning I actually fell back to sleep and woke at 7:15!! Never happens . . . perhaps there'll be more of that in retirement. . .
Might your choice of the label "Inner Wimp" relate to the occasional but debilitating times when you feel overwhelmed, stressed and blue? (It seems like you have nearly boundless energy, till you don't.) Like hostess, I need decent sleep in order to feel like exercise, but make sure I move, even if it's only a leisurely walk, for at least an hour each day. (I'm retired, so have a more leisurely pace of life than you, right now.)
Ah, my Inner Wimp needs you as counsel for the defense. I don't have boundless energy, but what I have tends to be more available earlier in the day. I've been feeling so much fatigue lately, but it's emotional mainly, I think.(Honestly, my first response to being told I seem to have boundless energy is to protest that I'm actually quite lazy–which probably tells you that my Inner Wimp could use your counsel more often!)
Yes, I so identify with this. Waking up in the morning and running through the day ahead and catching myself getting cross because I have arranged to do something which will actually be very enjoyable, even a privilege, when I would rather – at that moment – have the day clear. Still haven't cracked the exercise commitment
One day a few years ago, I caught myself beginning to complain to someone that I had had to hurry to get organized in the morning because the cleaner was coming and that I'd then had to fit a hair appointment into the day and then was meeting friends for lunch. Such a busy day off. Oh, you poor dear. Aargh! Embarrassing. . . Soon enough, I'll have clear days, theoretically, with retirement (as long as I schedule them, I suspect! )
I have no sure-fire method of dealing with days like this. One foot in front of the other and get on with it – that's what I tell myself because I know that it always works. I do admire your dedication to running!
Just keep showing up, right? 😉
I find that one of the results of stopping my job is that I have become addicted to a clear day with no commitments to anyone or anything, even things I love. I find I feel better for a day of quiet and solitude so I try to provide myself with it and not feel guilty. Seem to be winning on that one but I do, as you say, have also to propel myself out of the door and not allow my inner hermit to take over the whole week. If I give in to her too much I find myself slowly filling with lassitude so she does need both heeding and a good kicking every now and then!
You have an inner hermit too! You're right that giving mine too much control does result in a general lassitude that I then need to break out of. . . But a regularly scheduled free day — that will do the trick!
I don't know that mine is an inner wimp, but more like an inner curmudgeon. One step at a time seems to work for me, although I sometimes I have to force myself to take that step. Oddly, giving into the curmudgeon is often not as rewarding as the activities I gave up. The trick seems to be understanding when I need to let her lead, and when I need to push her down, knowing full well she'll always be there, willing to pop up at a moment's notice.
Love the photographs!
Whether wimp or curmudgeon, you're right that giving into that voice is "often not as rewarding as the activities I give up" — but sometimes she does deserve to lead, and it can be tricky to know when is when.