I went out for a run tonight- 3 x 17-minute runs. But, I ended up chafing at the seam of the leg of my shorts (anyone who has run in plastic-y shorts will understand this feeling), and I had to pee. Badly. So, I skipped the last portion of the run, limped my raw legs home, and nearly pissed myself getting my shorts off. And then immediately felt crappy for not finishing tonight's program.
But dammit, I ran a 5k. And at a decent pace (considering I was expecting to add another 1.5 miles to the run). There's NO WAY I could have accomplished that back in January! And on top of that, I came in and finished the weight training that I had scheduled for today. That realization made me feel so much better- I'm getting fit.
I feel strong and fit and awesome. Does it really matter that my butt isn't the size I'd like it to be? I feel like I could kick someone's ass. Given the right person, I probably could. THAT'S what matters- not my size, and certainly not the number on the scale.
And, it doesn't feel like work. I look forward to running and lifting. I enjoy beating my time or increasing my reps. It's FUN. Weighing myself is not fun. Squeezing into a pair of jeans so that I have an excuse to feel like shit is not fun. Given the choices, I pick fun over misery.