Every time I leave the house, I say the same thing to Ob & Marley. I always say, “We will be right back! Make good choices!” ←Read in that lovey dovey voice annoying people (like me) talk to dogs in. It is a weird habit I developed when we used to leave our house unsure of whether or not we would return to total destruction, compliments of Ob.
Me telling the dogs to make good choices started as a joke, but it just sort of stuck. Thankfully, we haven’t lost any pillows in quite some time and I never worry about Ob destroying the house while we’re gone now (*knock on wood*) but I still tell them to make good choices every time we leave.
The point of that story isn’t to give you another example of how weird I truly am, but to tell you that I had to take my own advice this morning.
I slept through my alarm and I woke up super bummed about it. I had big plans to tackle a 5 mile run this morning before Dave left for work. I really wanted to get in some good mileage outside before we get smacked with another Polar Vortex that is going to cause temperatures to drop into the single digits again this week. I knew it would most likely be my only run outside until this weekend when temperatures warm back up…and by ‘warm back up’ I mean ‘get back into the 30s.’ And to make matters slightly more complicated, Atlas has been fighting some congestion. His congestion isn’t anything serious (praise the Lord), but I don’t feel comfortable taking him to childwatch at the Y because 1) I don’t want him getting sicker and 2) I think it is inconsiderate to put other people’s children at risk of a cold. (Fun fact: It is a serious pet peeve of mine when people bring their kids to the gym, knowing their kids are sick, just so they can get their workout in. It is rude, inconsiderate and selfish. And that’s how I feel about that…in case you ever wanted to know.) So, a treadmill run was out for the day.
So, long story short I made the decision to walk the dogs with the 1 hour I had before Dave had to leave for work. I knew this was the right choice because Atlas didn’t need to be out in the cold with the dogs later and the dogs needed exercise before the bitter cold struck again.
I was even more bummed when I walked outside with Ob & Marley and realized it was actually a very pretty morning.
The dogs played and had a blast, but by the time we got home I was fighting back tears. Yes, I was crying over missing a run. Let’s just go ahead and blame that on those hormones (how old does Atlas have to be before that no longer is a valid excuse?). My runs right now aren’t about losing weight, training for a PR or even getting back in shape (although, I do hope all those things happen). My runs are more about alone time…sanity…quiet time…releasing some endorphins…gaining energy, etc. And I felt like I missed my one shot for all that for the week. How’s that for being overly dramatic?
Dave hugged me before he left, knowing I was on the verge of bursting into the ugly cry and said, “Don’t let this ruin your day.” That’s when I realized I had a choice to make.
I could let 1 missed run ruin my day or I could put on a happy face, make the most of the day and choose joy. I chose the latter, and it was a good choice.
I also chose to do a circuit workout from the Nike Training Club app. ← Good choice.
I chose to enjoy a healthy lunch (veggie burger topped with avocado, ketchup & mustard and a side of mashed sweet potatoes). ← Good choice. Ugly picture, but good choice.
The moral of this story is 3 fold.
- I need to take my own advice more often.
- Happiness is a choice. Life is never going to go exactly how you hope and plan, but you choose how you respond to the curveballs. One of my favorite quotes is “Blessed are the flexible for they will not be bent out of shape.”
- Momofuku’s b’day cake truffles make all things better.
So, next time your day doesn’t go as planned, I challenge you to make the choice to be flexible, be happy and make the most of what you have to work with.
And by the way…missing 1 run isn’t worth crying over…keep it into perspective. But seriously, if I miss running outside this weekend I will probably cry a river. It’s those dang hormones, I tell you.
And in all fairness, it isn’t that hard to choose joy when this little guy is around.
I’m not even going to pretend like that was a tactful way to include a picture of Atlas. I just wanted a picture of him in this post because I think he is awesome and I felt like I needed some way to tie it in. I’m a new mom - cut me some slack (Seriously – how old does Atlas have to be before that is no longer a valid excuse?).