Confessions of a Running Junkie Fat Chick
I officially have issues. I mean, we all knew I had issues but now it is official.
I have had that creeping feeling of a Meniere’s episode for the last several days. There was the intermittent hearing loss, the ever so annoying tinnitus and my least favorite: that wobbly feeling. More and more bruises have begun to rise to the surface on my thighs and arms and I am now sporting some pretty amazing small puncture wounds from a run in with a dog crate. What has been interesting, however, is that since I began focusing so intensely on eating whole foods and stepping up the exercise regime my Meniere’s related issues seem to be what I can only describe as muted. I can feel it, but not like I was feeling it if that makes any sense whatsoever. So even as the heat is climbing, instead of being treated to relentless bouts of vertigo I feel shaky and sometimes a little surreal but BETTER.
I am told it could be the result of losing weight or strengthening my core. It could be the further reduction in sodium and the elimination of other trigger foods as part of my health and fitness lifestyle change. It could be that I am closer to burnout. It could be that we have had a really long winter. It could be all of these things. It could be none of these things. That is the fun thing about Meniere’s. We don’t really know.
But back to my issues (yes, surprisingly this is NOT the issue I was referring too). So I have had that slow, molasses creeping feeling of Meniere’s without the normal fanfare and dramatic violence. This combined with last week’s killer schedule of two a day work outs (thrice a day in some cases), work and dog sports (and I even managed to pop off 1,220 photos or so…) meant that yesterday morning I was rather flat and unenthusiastic at boot camp. Sure, I went through the motions and I even managed to get a really good calorie burn, but my mind and yes, my heart wasn’t in it.
This morning was worse. I could barely find the energy to get out of bed, let along the will to make my pre-workout protein smoothie. I did. I laced up my running shoes and carted both smoothie and extra water out to my car to make the twenty minute drive to boot camp where for the first time; I stayed in my car until I absolutely HAD to get out for roll call. I am typically one of the first one there and warming up five or ten minutes before we actually get started (no seriously, I am).
I had no motivation. I was terrified of more mountain climbers or, kill me now, another round of Sun Salutations (yoga is NOT for wimps, folks). In fact, the trust was that the only reason I was there was to avoid facing the wrath of not only my partner in crime, Karen, but the trainer.
So I stood for roll call, looking miserable and feeling very sorry for my tired ass. And then the trainer said one word and I lit up like a firecracker on the Fourth of July: RUN.
Due to a sprinkler malfunction, we would be running. And running. And running. And I was suddenly excited, bouncing around, stretching like my life depended on it and completely enthusiastic about doing quarter mile intervals broken up by squats, push-ups and planks.
And this is when I realized that I have serious issues. Have I become that much of a running junkie that just the mere thought of running can not only cause huge amounts of motivation spring forth from absolutely nowhere but generate a sickening giddy excitement over PUSH-UPS? Apparently.