Breakdown

I’m just going to say it…

I just want to give up.

I am tired of working around the puking and pushing through the nausea and the fatigue and the breathlessness just to have an endless string of shitty runs. The only thing that is keeping me running is the memory of how much I used to love it, how much it used to balance me. Echoes of the high that I rarely glimpse anymore.

I am sick of beating myself and feeling defeated for how slow I have become, how hard the distance is, how I have to walk. I told myself I would let go of striving on these things, but without the euphoria, they irk me. They make the runs seem all the less successful.

The runs are not all as horrible as tonight’s, but the vast majority are just shitty runs. They make me feel worse physically or mentally than I began.

Yet my addiction keeps me coming back.

I keep going so I can return to it post-partum. I keep going in case I can catch those elusive “good” runs. I had one yesterday, yet tonight was enough for me to just think clearly: I want to give up.

Tonight, we went for the 5K instead of the 10K I wanted, and I still couldn’t manage that. I forgot my belly belt, so the initial downhill had pain blooming in my belly. It was sharp, unnerving, drawing a line down below my belly button, getting stronger with each stride.

I foolishly and selfishly tried to ignore it.

By the time we turned up the steep hill, I came to my senses and walked, cradling my aching belly. I was walking awkwardly, almost limping against it.

Then I fell, slipped in gravel and was unable to recover. I plopped down on my side. I didn’t cause any real damage, but the flinching did not improve my pain. And as much as I fall pregnant, it is always scary.

After that, I just wanted to be home. I just wanted to curl up in a ball of failure.

I’m not going to give up. I want to, but I’ll keep going, just like I have for the last three rough months. I have a 5 mile race Sunday, another the following Saturday, then a family 5K walk a couple weeks after that. Run club every week.

No stopping, just limping through.

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About ChrstnaBergling

Colorado-bred writer, Christina Bergling knew she wanted to be an author in fourth grade. In college, she pursued a professional writing degree and started publishing small scale. With the realities of paying bills, she started working as a technical writer and document manager, traveling to Iraq as a contractor and eventually becoming a trainer and software developer. She avidly hosted multiple blogs on Iraq, bipolar, pregnancy, running. In 2015, she published two novellas. She is also featured in the horror collection Collected Christmas. Bergling is a mother of two young children and lives with her family in Colorado Springs. She spends her non-writing time running, doing yoga and barre, belly dancing, taking pictures, traveling, and sucking all the marrow out of life. View all posts by ChrstnaBergling

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