I have been really struggling this winter to get my head on straight, stay motivated, and not just disappearing underneath a sea of blankets and fluffy bathrobes in favor of being my normal active self.
The ankle injury obviously gave me a great excuse to just work/sleep/eat/sleep for a minute, but since then I’ve been having a hard time wanting to do anything.
My post about trying to ultra train in the gym – when I looked back at that a day later, all I could think was, no wonder. No wonder I’m welling with ultra doubts. No wonder I am dreading training. No wonder I am fairly bitchy anytime I’m not eating or sleeping.
Ultra for me means not only pushing myself in an athletic endeavor but adventure. There really is nothing too adventurous about running on a treadmill unless you do it backwards. The adrenaline rush of climbing a hand over foot hill doesn’t even begin to translate to a jaunt on the stair stepper.