Self Doubt

A few weeks back, I decided that it was time to think about running again. I’ve been off of running, and religiously doing my rehab, spending lots of time at physical therapy appointments, and generally trying to “be good” and not go back to running too soon. Approaching my fifth month of not running, I started to ask if I’d been good for long enough.

With a PT appointment on the books for Wednesday the 12th, I decided that barring an absolute prohibition due to imminent injury, I would start running again next week. Time to be bad, I thought, and run even if the therapist tells me not to.

Well, Wednesday’s appointment came, and I was given the greenlight to run again. Of course, by run I mean run/walk for 10 minutes, then 15, etc, for 6 weeks before thinking about running on its own.

But still, a green light.

What happened next caught me off guard.

I came home Wednesday evening and settled into a funk of massive proportions. I’d run/walked for 10 minutes, and aside from some critical words about my form, it all went well. Why so glum?

Well, now that I’m allowed to run, the universe of obstacles is settling onto my shoulders, ready to thwart any progress I’ve been dreaming about for months. I CAN run, but what if…

It hurts?

I’m bad at it?

I’m slow?

I’ve gained too much weight and can’t lose it?

I get injured again and have to start all over?

I realize that I need to cut this s--- out. Negative self-talk, my old nemesis, has no place in my plans. I need to listen to more Run Selfie Repeat (love that podcast), stick to my new plan, and be excited, not scared, that I can run again. That I get to run again.