Spartan Shape-Up, Day 72:
Argh. I should've run today. Life got in the way a bit today... running around, getting through the end of the work week, doing a little bit of grocery shopping... then before I knew it, it was dark and here I am. I'm in a weird mood tonight, blog land. About 90% of this transformation has been a mental battle, and today is just one of the days that the battle feels particularly long.
I got some wedding pictures from a friend's recent wedding back today, and was disappointed. I FELT like I looked better than the pictures showed. Although, my room mate assures me this is lingering "fat girl syndrome" and it's probably just going to take 10 minutes past forever for me to actually see and recognize a picture of myself that I like. Until then, I just keep working.
Mental working today. Struggling against my own emotional knee-jerk reactions today. Stupid stuff, that really isn't true (so I try and tell myself intellectually), but the emotional brain is so easy to sway toward not-positive stuff.
HOWever. This weekend, apparently one of the Spartan ladies and I ('sup, Moose?) are doing the Burpees... of Death (BoD) weekend. Which will call for spontaneous drops in to excessive amounts of Burpees, until we can Burpee no more... and then do a few more. Why would we do that, you ask? Well... I may have opened my big moth and expressed how much I hate Burpees. If immersion therapy isn't a great way to fight your demons, I don't know what is.
So, I guess tomorrow is Run day, no matter what life throws at me. I think that will be a good way to get my brain back in the game. Either that, or maybe I just need a good night sleep. I dunno.
Just feeling off track tonight. So, I made cookies. Baking is my Zen time, and I am feeling a little better. There is something very satisfying about an adorable full cookie jar, and a Yuummm! from the roommate.
Until tomorrow, when I lace my sneakers up, and get my Run on... AND my Burpees....of Death....
I leave you with some thoughts from Spartan Race's own Margaret, who's sentiments echo mine very closely:
Dirt in Your Skirt, Going the Distance.
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