My Coping Mechanism

After 3 weeks, I am finally not sick. I don’t think anyone can understand how amazing that feels. Sleeping through the night. Not sweating through my clothes anymore. The headache finally went away. And it only took 3 weeks. Yes! Unfortunately, I am on antibiotics for another weeks, but at least these ones are working and I am not in life altering pain because of them.

But the hardest part of it all was not being able to work out. I was so lethargic I couldn’t bring myself to work out. It was hard and took so much energy that I didn’t have. So I didn’t for a long time. And it sucked. But when i finally was able to work out again, I realized that fitness means so much more to me than just having an aesthetic appeal.

No, it’s not as dramatic as fitness saved my life, but fitness gives me a sense of purpose. And in a world (and at a time) where I feel like everything is falling a part, I know I’m one workout or run away from feeling better about things. The mental benefits of working out are amazing. And I didn’t have that for so long.

For example, I am up at 2:31 am in the morning, I’ve had a very bad night. I’ve had worse, but it was pretty bad and left me in tears for much of the night. What I already knew was happening was confirmed, but then I also had to hear (again) how awful of a person I am according to someone. Someone that I currently feel like I wasted too much time on. Someone who knows what to say to make me feel like nothing. And, academy award goes to me for this, I held it together. Saved face. Never let them see you cry. And as much as I hurt and could think all these horrible things, the only thing I wanted to do was go run. That’s all I can think about. At 2:35 am, I’m wishing I can just go run and wishing I would have gone for a run right after the encounter.

Yes. I know. The endorphins are great. Give you runners high. Blah blah blah… But truthfully, I think of it as my getaway. Especially on my long runs, I don’t think. I just do. I just run. No questions to be answered, no one to answer to, just me and the pavement. And that’s all I want. Nothing more. I just want to run and forget. And that’s partially what fitness is to me. I forget all the bad. It’s my therapy. It’s how I cope.

And now that I think about it, I cope a lot through fitness. Anytime I’m upset, I hit the gym. Anytime I want to cry, i hit the gym. Anytime I feel like anything is going wrong in my life, I hit the gym. And I couldn’t have it any other way. I need it. I think without it, my life would be different. Through all the chaos and confusion, it’s one constant that gets me through the day and I know I can count on. Weird, I know. But it makes sense to me and keeps me going. Anyone else feel like that?