I'm not sure what's wrong with me. I know that it is something. That I am sure of. But I just can't pin-point it. And it's driving me crazy.
Let's start out with the symptoms: apathy, laziness, general malize, not really feeling up to par, really just wanting to lay on couch and eat ice cream. no general body aches, although my throat hurts a little, like I've been talking too much. no fever, as was 97.7 yesterday. just generally feeling really run down, tired, and pathetic. Oh, and I did have a small rash on my left arm yesterday but now it's gone.
Now, I've tried all the diagnosis: running injuries, negative. depression, negative. flu, negative. strep throat, negative. prego, yikes and negative. gastroentoritis, maybe but more likely negative. mono, the test is still pending. stress from too much going on, eureka! (and I can't believe I just said that).
Here's what's happened (or in my case, didn't happen)...Friday's 4 easy miles was great, fabulous, wonderful. I actually envisioned myself running the marathon, with volunteers on the side-lines cheering "ONE MORE MILE" and "WATER?? POWERADE??" and "GREAT JOB, KEEP IT UP!". It was fun, and funny and I found myself literally laughing on the trail.
Saturday, we got up, ran around like crazy people and started our trek to the great state of Alabama. My brother went, and he and T spent most of the day taking cheap shots at me. It was fun. Even though I tried to act like they were being mean and ganging up on me, I secretly enjoyed it (well, not so secretly now...since T does read my blog!) At any rate, Dave Ramsey was great. Seats at UAB Arena were super-uncomfortable, and that couple with their small children...what were thinking...this event last 5 HOURS!!!! Luckily, T got us moved to the VIP area (which is really where I belong in the first place! haha). It was fun and we drove home that evening. It was about 1am before we got to sleep, and then Sunday started off pretty bad.
We woke up late, there were terrible storms headed our way, and I had to be at my parents house at 2:30 to start cooking...things were just not going well, because there was still this 17 miles that had to be done. T and I had a pow-wow and decided that the schedule could be adjusted and the 17 miles could get postponed until this coming up weekend. Because really, I'm just lucky to even get to this marathon. So, that's what we decided. Additionally, I read that I didn't have to do as much of a taper since my schedule is not really a training schedule, but more like a comeback schedule. So, that's what we're going to do. 17 miles this Sunday, and 19 the next, then 1 week taper rather than 1.5 that was originally planned. Now, you are probably asking yourself why couldn't I have done it Monday or Tuesday or any other day before next Sunday?
Well, this is where the stress-related part comes in. I have put SO MUCH on my plate for this week, that there was barely enough time to schedule 5 miles, much less 17...and that is, well, just not acceptable anymore. I wonder how long I will continue to schedule every minute of every single day doing things for every one else??? How long will my body and my mind put up with this? Do I have to wait until I'm clinically diagnosed as insane before I will stop? The answer is no. I went to the doctor yesterday to get checked out for my general malize (by the way, I have no idea if I'm spelling this right)....he checked me for everything under the sun and said I might have gastroentoritis, because my white blood cell count was slightly elevated. And he did a mono spot but i really think he only did that because he's young and has probably never ordered one before, so "yippee, I can tell all my other doc friends that I ordered one today". Probably the same feeling we all got when we ordered our first beer. Besides that I've been kissing the same mouth for almost a year now, so how could I possibly get the kissing disease (his terminology, not mine)...and c'mon, I thought only high school and college kids got mono...but from the look of what I ate yesterday (please don't make me spell that out), I could possibly have gastroentoritis. But, overall I think that I am just stressed out. For several reasons as follows:
1. I recently changed my living situation, and haven't fully adjusted to that.
1. Relay for Life is this weekend and it has been so complicated and chaotic. I will never ever ever ever ever volunteer for this again. As blogger friends as my witness, I will NEVER do it again.
1. I'm trying to get certified (not to be crazy) but for an accounting related, boring to you guys, certification and it is tough.
1. I know that I am leaving soon and will be gone for 3 months.
1. Duh, I'm running a marathon in 17 days.
1. Work kindof sucks. Although I like my employer (the fed govt), I don't really like my job.
I'm sure there is more. But those are on the top of my list, hence the reason they are all number 1.
But, on the bright side, I have wonderful positive things going on in my life.
1. I have the best boyfriend in the whole world. Sorry, but I've got him and I'm not letting him go.
1. I quit smoking.
1. I'm running a marathon in 17 days.
1. I'm in the best shape of my life.
1. I have a job, that offers me great benefits, plenty of perks, and plenty of time off.
1. I have friends that love me. Not alot of friends, but true quality friends that I wouldn't trade for anything.
1. I'm not pregnant. (I felt like I that should be thrown in).
1. I'm on the road to being debt free.
1. I'm smart, attractive, and nice. I know I am. I just wish I was funnier.
1. Did I mention that my boyfriend is hot, funny, smart, strong, great, perfect, fabulous, and hot?
So, with all those great things why would I ever be stressed? Well, simply because I try to do too much. I am not superwoman. Although, I (and I know plenty of you females out there do it as well) think that if I just get it all in order, do one thing really perfectly, everything else will fall into place and we'll be that girl. You know her. The one who does everything with little effort, no mistakes, and looks flawless while she's doing it. I want to be her. And I'm killing myself by trying. That's a hard pill to swallow (and i can't even swallow pills...but that's another story). That I can't be perfect. That maybe, I just will never be that girl. I've been thinking about that alot last night and today. And maybe I don't want to be her. Maybe she's perfect on the outside, but not so perfect on the inside. Maybe she has bad breath. Or a boyfriend who's a jerk. Or maybe her smile is fake, and she's miserable. Maybe she doesn't even know that she's that girl...
And then there are two things that have happened that I can't get out of my mind. 1. When my doc was examining me and I was telling him about the marathon and he was poking and prodding around and mashing on my stomach (what are they looking for anyway...that maybe I digested my stomach, or my spleen??) At any rate, he said "looks like you do alot of sit-ups as well" And I was like, Huh? Me? He's kidding, right?
And then 2. when i was running today, it was close to 29 minutes and I knew that it was time to stop for my run 9 min/ walk 1 min. But there were some girls running towards me. and hey, do i really have to stop and walk. they look cute, and in shape, and like they probably run all the time and i will just look like a loser to have to walk by them...but then I was like, screw it...I'm not messing up this comeback for them...so, I stopped. And walked...with pride. Because, you see, as soon as I stopped and walked, they stopped and walked. Like I gave the green light to stop (or I guess the red light). Like I was in charge of this sidewalk, and since I, the girl that's running a marathon in 17 days, said it was okay to stop and walk a little, then it was okay for all. It just felt good.
But, the moral of those stories are: i just didn't even know that I was that girl. the girl with the great abs or the girl who made everyone feel confident enough to take a break and walk. i just didn't know.
This post is getting too long, and I apologize but I just need to get this out. And done with.
So, I'm through with trying to be that girl. I'm going to focus on being me. Just nice, smart Amy. That's it. I might run some marathons, or get into better shape, or be someone's mom someday, but I'm through with trying to be something else. Those are just cool things that I will do, but they will not define me. They're just part of me being me. And, honestly, that's what I have been for almost 30 years now. And I really like me, so why would I ever want to change that?