Attitude.

As the anxiety-ridden, over-reactor that I am, people are always sharing little ditties with me to help calm me down. A fan favorite is: "Life is 10% what you make it and 90% how you take it." With the exception of my friend Sarah, who wrote this down for me in high school on our drill team stationary and I really appreciated it at the time, I've told everyone else who has ever said this to me to go F-off (not too articulate, but highly effective in shutting down and overly-effusive helper).

However. Today, I got a taste of my own grumpy medicine when I went to run. I've been babysitting this week and it's messed with my spin schedule so I've been compensating for that deficit with running. This morning I woke up refreshed after a good nights worth of Lunesta-induced slumber but the second my feet hit the floor: I. was. pissy. I still am. I'm in a bad mood and I know why, but that's for a whole other blog.

The cruel irony is, the anger and frustration I was feeling upon stumbling out of bed only hurt me. Instead of saying, "ok, let's just go work this out on the treadmill," I grudgingly loaded myself up into my car and schlepped into the gym. I had a horrid run. And that's all in my head, because, 1. today is actually 'off' day, 2. I finally hit 3 miles in 30 minutes and 3. I'm not that tired.

But I was beaten. My attitude sucked. I really crawled through today's workout. Focusing on all the negative, and truly feeling frightened of the endeavor I've embarked upon. I hope today will improve. My daily prayer is to be in the now and to focus on the positives- aka, drink my own medicine.

When someone asked me why in the heck I was attempting a triathlon, my immediate and gut reaction was "I needed to kick my own ass." Well. Here's to another kick.

Claire