For the past two weeks, I have experienced some serious doubt. It is the kind that comes creeping in like a heavy fog and just lays on a person. Its a fog of doubt. Its a doubt fog. Its a foudt. It sucks.
During this foubt, I have been questioning myself about work, at home and even with running.
It does not help that running has become a HUGE annoyance to me. I wake up at 5:30am and I just don't want to go. Like- would rather drink toilet water if it means I get to go back to sleep- don't want to go. Like- would love to Bill and Ted back to the day I signed up for the race and punch myself in double chin- don't want to go. Like- can't think of a third thing to list here, dagumnit- don't want to go.
While I fully expect an upswing in my mood around 5 days to go, the next 16 days until the race are going to be touch and go at best.
Lucky for me, husband, sister, sister's boyfriend, and our friends who moved to West Virginia, are all meeting in the middle of no where to just hang out and wear flannel. I can't wait to either be killed by a masked murderer or regain my sanity in our mountain cabin. Both are very real possibilities in the hills of no-where.
I would very much like to be back to myself soon. I'm guessing I've got a few things to learn during this so called fog, and since I have not learned much (other than how to muddle through these days clinging to God's promise that he is always here with me), I'm sure the fog won't lift anytime soon.
Oh wait-- maybe that was it. Shoot. I'll be sure to let you know.