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...the license plate number of the mini-van that just ran me over?? Wow, I hurt (and I expect it to feel like a truck in a couple of days). Something told me that it wasn't the brightest idea to play tackle football/rugby/murderball in the pool for six hours yesterday if I wanted to get back on the workout horse today. That person's name was Common Sense and I didn't listen. I knew it was going to be a rough one today when it felt as if I had walked on sandpaper for 36 hours straight the minute my feet hit the carpet as I "hopped" out of bed. I use that term very loosely as I'm sure it looked more like a beached whale trying to roll his way back into the water. But, because of my amazing determination and commitment, I was able to push through it and get ready to face the day ahead. Ok, I just lied to your face right there. Mandi's determination and commitment to get me back on track was the SOLE reason we got up so early and hit the pavement. And, of course, I'm so glad we did.
We've actually been good about riding our bikes and going for walks, but this morning was different. It was like walking with a purpose. And if that purpose was to decorate the sidewalk and all surrounding areas with my mucus, then mission accomplished. I coughed up so much junk this morning it was CRAZY. I was getting out plugs, followed by green, yellow, white, clear and repeat. Admittedly, during the walk it didn't feel like I was King of the World, but man, it sure set the tone for the rest of the day. I felt so clear and like I was actually using all five lobes today. My lungs were open and ready for business.
My body was actually holding me back on my other workouts today more than my lungs were. Now, don't get me wrong, when we went on a run/walk after the gym, I was really pulling for air. It wasn't the "oh my, I'm going to faint" pull for air, just the "seriously, this really stinks" pull for air. So, in my mind, I'm ahead of the game. The last first time I got back on the workout horse, I would have bet you money that I was about to faint. Now, having been through that experience multiple times, I've learned that it's just my lungs lying to me. It's almost like they want me to fail. Like there some school yard bully who just gets gratification by picking on me. Well, today was the day I started to fight back again. Fighting back is the only way to do it.
If anybody is actually reading this, I want you to know the reason why I'm writing this post today. I want you to know that it's hard. It sucks. It's not going to feel good. Just a few short months ago I was running for almost an hour straight. Now, the thought of that almost makes me puke. But, I have a goal. I have a mission. I have an opponent. I'm going to get back on the horse that got me to the point were I could lace up my shoes, turn on my ipod and just run. This horse has a name: it's sacrifice, hard work, sweat, tears, pain, agony and no excuses. I know what I need to do and I know what's going to get me there. Now I just have to stay on this horse and ride him until he dies.
**If you have some extra time today, please check out Jesse's blog CF Fatboy. He wrote an incredibly touching blog about Mandi and I that really put a smile on my face. We're both married to incredible women who keep us going and pick up our feet when we feel we can't go anymore. Thank you Fatboy!!
