Some days are harder than others. Not every day can be a good day. Some days are a real mental struggle. Today is one of those days.
Running for My Mental Health
“That day is not today.”
We all struggle with something, and how we cope with it varies from person to person. I struggle with advanced endometriosis and adenomyosis, both of which can leave me bedridden and attached to a heating pad and on pain meds when they flare. Most of my days are good, but some of them are very bad. I’ve learned over time not to fight it, but to rest on the bad days and take full advantage of the good days.
One simple phrase has become my mantra: that day is not today. One day I will not be able to run. One day I will not be able to get out there for a walk to enjoy the peace and tranquility of the waterfront or the beauty of nature on my trails of choice. One day. But that day is not today.
It’s a simple statement, but it helps me get out of bed and outside on harder days, when my mind is screaming no. I’m just coming off of a particularly bad flare-up recently and haven’t been able to exercise for a few weeks. My head has gone to dark places and I’m trying to turn it around and put this flare behind me. It also hasn’t helped that my upcoming fall vacation and marathon plans have just been cancelled thanks to the pandemic. I feel very little motivation to push myself to get outside.
One of Those Days
Today was one of those days. Physically I could run, but mentally, it was another story. I struggled to remind myself….that day is not today. I told myself to just get out there and start walking, you won’t regret it. I promised myself just 15 minutes, you can do it. I did it. I put my shoes on, grabbed my keys, and drove down to the waterfront (my favourite walk in my area) to start my walk.
At first, my head was spinning with negativity, grumbling about everything, but then I relaxed. It was a beautiful (although horribly humid) morning and I could hear the sound of calm water hitting the shore and birds chirping in the trees. That fifteen minutes I had promised myself turned into thirty minutes.
Near the end of my walk, nestled in the middle of an old subdivision between two well-established homes, was a field of Black-eyed Susan flowers. It was beautiful, and I couldn’t help but stop for a few moments to take it all in and snap a few photos. And suddenly I was smiling as I headed back to the waterfront parking lot and my car.
That day is not today.