This is going to be short, sweet and to the point -
I am a large child when it comes to not getting my way. I tend to get frustrated very easily (if you haven’t figured that out by now) and my teeny weeny temper sometimes gets the best of me (again, don’t think I need to clue you into that either). When I am unable to obtain a goal or have something I want, I tend to get very snippy and I let my emotions take over. It’s somewhat reminiscent to a 3-year old little girl throwing herself on the floor and wailing around like a wet fish, except I’m 30-something and if I were to actually throw myself on the floor it would most likely land me a dislocated hip.
I’m not going to lie; I have a very, very strong distaste for failure. I am convinced that working out and being an “away from home” working Mom are two things that don’t mix. Like Oil and Water. I am not at the place where I saw myself being 2 months ago and that infuriates me. I know people say “you have to make time for you” (yeah, in my world that’s called going potty and taking a shower) and “your only going to see results if you push yourself” (ok well, I pushed myself – right into a friggen corner and now I can’t do squat – no pun intended). Two months ago, I made this “goal” for myself that I was going to accomplish 1 full mile of running in 5 weeks. Simple, right? Well in those 5 weeks, I managed a 1/2 of a mile, which slowly turned into a ¼ mile, which has now turned into zip. (Running, that is.) It is because of this, I feel so incredibly defeated and pissed off at the same time. As much as my mind tells me “you’re not a quitter” my body says, “The hell you’re not!” I cannot seem to get my act together. And if anyone is about to say, “there is no such word, as “can’t” how about you zip it? Yes, I’m being ugly and nasty because my body and mind are not on the same page.
This is not productive. I am not having a good month and I am in desperate need of a “come to Jesus” talk with myself.