Saturday, June 9

830a-2c reg w 2T coconut milk
9a-3.25m run & 2m walk
1030a-2 fr eggs, 3 sl bacon, 2 sl toast, micro cake (banana coconut topped with mint chocolate sauce, holy CRAP), 2c reg w/ 2T MimicCreme*, supps - hunger
430p-carrot cake pancakes** topped w/ coconut butter & honey, supps - hunger
7p-c cooked cabbage w/ balsamic, 3.25oz pork jerky - craving
Throughout day-2 quarts water

*MimicCreme = almond + cashew milk. DELISH.
 **VERY good! Although cooking with coconut oil on high heat is a bit of a smoky disaster.

Sleep: 8.5 hours in bed. To bed late, all Dustin's fault: I was reading The Hunger Games and couldn't put it down. So naturally I read the whole thing in one sitting. I don't do moderation, remember? Anyway, a meowing Oscar at 6am drove me nuts, up for b/r, put earplugs in, and got in another couple hours of dozing.

Napped 2-4. Not deep sleep, cats were not in nap mode until 3, apparently, but I got up feeling refreshed.

Body: Decent. Run plan was overly ambitious, actual run itself was not too fun due to the heat, but there was no pain issues. Shins/fronts of ankles still sore but didn't notice anything while running.

Brain: Pre-run anxiety was still there. Actually glad to try it without breakfast since it meant I couldn't over-eat before going out. Talked to myself like a friend would. Asked myself Dustin-style questions. Then just went out and did it. On the walk back, internal Sabrina was really being a bitch, very mean to herself about failing, stopping early, maybe my punishment should be to not eat until after noon, etc. I also found myself going back to 2011's pitiful showing. So I really let myself go back to the deep valleys: the foot pain, the DNF at Fargo, the DNS for Eisenbahn, the weight gain, the payroll stress, all of it. And then I reminded myself about the peaks: I won a 10k, did 10 straight pullups on my first pullup anniversary, had a fucking fantastic time in a 50k (I don't even mean the 7:05 finish, I mean how much god damned FUN it was), won a 5k on my birthday...told myself that's how an athlete's life goes. There are highs and there are lows. At this point I'm climbing my way up out of a low, of course it's arduous and challenging. I compared it to climbing Spirit Mountain, when Dustin & I just bitched steadily about that fucking hill, but at the top, holy shit, what a feeling of accomplishment!

I then went through each of my key fitness people (Dustin, Joy, Heather, Timmy) and told myself what THEY would say about my run. And they were all very nice things. Because my people are kind and helpful and encouraging and positive, not like that cunt Internal Sabrina who needs to go jump off a cliff. I love my people. I am so god damned lucky to have them. I know I would have given up on running (maybe even fitness altogether) long ago without them at my side.

So: thank you, sincerely, from the bottom of my devoted grateful heart.

And now I'm tearing up. Topic change!

Hop ditched me again today for his buddies, but this time it was for his old crowd of very good friends, heading out on their motorcycles, including a visit to Jack's grave to lay down a little rubber in his honor. I couldn't NOT support that; I knew how good it will be for all of them. Still, I felt lonely and lost. Tired & unmotivated. But I made today my chore day, kept busy, took a nap, started a new audiobook to keep the mind busy, too.

Quote:
It pays to be skinny!
-clerk at Lillian's as she rang up my clearanced size Small tops

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