As I was trudging/plodding/attempting to run/hiking/running today, I had this image of myself as a tail-less Shamu, trying to swim through stale molasses. Or perhaps a 3-legged elephant trying to run through a mud bog. Pathetic with a capital P. I would really like to know where my strong, pain-free legs are. It was so discouraging that I began trying to convince myself that my life would be just fine without exercise. It was a whole lot of garbage--stomach hurt, back was cranky, legs really hurt, I had massive chub rub, ad nauseum. Yep, one of those days. The trail was in great shape (we got some rain over the weekend that really knocked the dust down) and I saw no one else out there. Lots of fall colors, too. So I guess it wasn't all bad I do think, however, that I left my mojo in Tahoe in mid-July. I wish I could coax it to come back to Utah. I know, wah.

lph, I have a similar image I use sometimes. I think of a string pulling me up (as in keeping my upper body stacked over my hips) and my legs being like a wind up toy; the more that string pulls, the longer my legs will stay "loaded" (keep going). I should have used that today but I think I was wallowing in my misery too much to think clearly