Day 14 – For A Bad Day This Was A Pretty Good Day.
|Calories in||Calories out||Deficit|
I had little energy all day yesterday. I wanted to do a proper long run after slacking off over the weekend but I just didn’t have the energy in me for it. I think it’s related to not eating enough over the weekend especially after an 80 mile week last week.
I ran to the Intermarche in the village and I knew from the start it was an off day.
I limped onward towards Villamoura and stopped outside a Spar and effectively gave up running for the day. I couldn’t focus on anything but bad shit that’s happened in the past. It was hopeless. So I went into a Haagen Daas and ordered 2 scoops of Vanilla Brownie ice cream and felt even worse. Mainly because it cost nearly 6 euros.
Everyone around me looked happy and that made me feel even more out of place. I was mad at myself for feeling this way. I was on fucking holiday and miserable. That’s part of the pressure of holidays. You have to be happy otherwise you’re seen to be an ungrateful cunt. If I could have flipped a switch I would have chose to be happy but I honestly don’t know how to do that.
When I get locked in those moments, I lose all perspective and I can’t see anything ahead of me.
I followed the ice cream up with a visit to a terrible restaurant in the Marina for a toastie. It tasted worse than the ones I used to make for myself drunk after the Limelight with our 20 year old sandwich maker.
I believe that we’re not judged by our best days, but by our worst ones and how we respond to them.
I started jogging again up the beach towards Albufeira and got to just outside the Pine Cliffs resort. To get into the resort from the beach you have to climb up a lot of stairs on the cliff edge and as someone who is fucking terrified of heights I made it without shitting myself. I felt sick to the pit of my stomach but I kept jogging up.
I ran 11 miles and walked a total of 7. It was pretty good for a bad day.
I need to weigh in soon to keep this challenge interesting. It would be fucking hilarious if I’d gained weight but I can tell by looking in the mirror and by the fit of my jeans that I’ve lost some weight. If I was to take a guess I’d say I am 197 pounds.
I sometimes have these bad days and in the past I’ve responded negatively to them. I’m so fucking close to hitting my goal and I need to keep sight of that. I will go out for my run tomorrow knowing that I’m in the best condition I’ve been in my life and I can capitalise on that by not listening to my fucking brain and pushing myself forward.
My legs move me forward. My brain keeps me locked in the past.