March 29, 2010

Sick? Nope. Not me.

So as some of you know, I unfortunately caught the dreaded norovirus that's been circulating throughout my work. I work in higher education, so the diseases spread like wildfire because there are so many students living/working so close together. Anyways, the norovirus literally knocks you out of commission for 1-2 days, as it did to me. My roommate made me swear on her life that I wouldn't run the morning after getting it, naturally. And I was good; her life is more valuable than that :) But I did go for a run the following morning. I figured giving myself one whole day of recovery time was more than enough, and besides, I didn't want all of my hard work to go to waste.

That run was fabulous. Don't worry, I ran slowly. But I was able to complete my normal 5k loop without feeling winded or near my deathbed. And although I still felt incredibly weak, I also felt like that run helped amp up my recovery time. The rest of the day I was able to run a bunch of errands and I haven't felt sick since.

My step-mom always told me that running usually helps her fight off sickness. While I was smart to listen to my beloved roommate and not run while sick, I have to agree with my step-mom: Running really might be the best cure, for everything :)
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Welcome to Head Over Heels!

Like many 20-something women, I woke up one morning exasperated. It seemed like every day I would find a new passion, a new dream, and get excited about yet another project, just to find that they would all crash and burn. I wanted something that I could control and that would be all mine.

Because our 20s are a time of exploration and discovery, it's very hard to find that path that directs us exactly to our dreams, especially because our dreams have the habit of evolving overnight. I had worn myself into a tizzy of exhaustion, disappointment, and an overwhelming sense of having no control over my own life. And that's when I went for that first run.

Two minutes later, I arrived back at my apartment steps, panting. As long and as torturous as those two minutes felt, they also gave me a sense of liberation, a feeling that had been severely lacking in my life. The next day, pathetically still sore, I again put on my sneakers. Three minutes, yes! This routine was repeated daily throughout the summer and now, I'm a half-marathoner! My ultimate goal, a marathon, still looms in the distant future, but the even bigger goal is one I can actively work on every day: learning to gain control over my own life and learning to fall in love with myself one step at a time.