2 Shitty Miles

I did two miles today, I was going to do four, but just wasn't feeling it. Then, I decided that the reason I wasn't feeling it was because Chris was home this morning and made another of his fantastic "jokes" about my running (I was telling David, who didn't want me to leave preferring to have me sitting on the couch lazily on a Saturday morning watching cartoons with him, that I would only be gone less than an hour and that I planned to do four miles when Chris chimes in with "do it in 12 minutes, I think you can do it in twelve minutes" HAR HAR, SOMEBODY STOP ME!), which sends my insecurities skyrocketing and my confidence down to the basement. So, I did two miles and then decided my bad run was his fault, so I came home and shouted at him for a while, including the fact that Rachael has now taken up the habit of making fun of me (last week, when I mentioned to both her and Chris who happened to be sitting there that I had done 23 miles of combined movement, Rachael goes "oh, well if you just go out and do three more miles today, you would have a marathon") and just how fantastic that is. Anyways, it was all great fun. I'm still pretty seriously pissed.

There is a blog post somewhere in this experience about how I will always be at the intersection of fat avenue, self loathing street, patriarchy lane and i'mdoingmybest boulevard and how terribly hurtful it is to have the street leading to that intersection going through my living room with my husband in one of the cars ready to shout or throw something at me, but frankly the whole thing is too disheartening to write.