My Monday was going well. It was fueled by plans for my run that I was planning to do after work. Thirty minutes before my day ended, however, the mass email began arriving in all of our mailboxes. The time had finally come for the Mother Company to validate the rumors that have been circulating. There would be meetings the following morning.
I told myself that I wasn’t going to worry about things that I had no control over. I wasn’t going to fret over losing my job until I knew that I was truly losing it. I changed my clothes as soon as I got home. It was a hot day. I considered waiting until morning to do the track workout. I knew that it wasn’t likely that I would get up on time.
As I drove to the track, I began thinking about my career, the house payment, the children… I ran my 2 mile warm up. Lap after lap, I began to lose track of the count and had to consult with Garminia for the answer. I could already feel the fatigue; it was mental fatigue more than anything. How much more beating down can I endure this year?
As I began my first interval, I cursed the rails that were guarding the inside lanes. I got mad at the wind when I was fighting it and missed it when it was no longer cooling me. As each lap went by I could see my pace slowing. A voice in my head told me to just give up – come back in the AM when it was cooler, I was rested, and there were less people to maneuver around.
Another voice urged me to keep on believing in myself. It was telling me that I was strong and capable, and that I would come out on top despite the raw hand that I was being dealt. I pushed onward only to produce two 2-mile intervals that were 35-45 seconds slower than what I was asked to do.
At bedtime, I called on my Placebo Stones again. YaYa held on to “Trust,” while I gripped “Believe.”