Priorities

Well, I insisted on running on my fucked up ankle last night, and now it’s more fucked up than ever. The reality of is that I’m just trying not to think about it because I don’t want to have realize how fucked up my priorities are. Because then I’d have to try to fix them, and I just don’t want to right now. They SHOULD be:

1. Love Myself no matter what
2. Don’t permanently fuck up my ankle
3. Run a half marathon
4. Don’t get fat

but they ARE:

1. Don’t get fat
2. Run a half marathon
3. Don’t permanently fuck up ankle.

You’ll notice love myself no matter what isn’t even on the real list. I know that’s not right, but I don’t want to fix it if it means I’ll gain weight. And I’m terrified of gaining weight but I’m just not in the fucking mood to freak out about this right now so for the next few days it’s going to be a contest of my iron will over food.

I never thought I would be saying this but the idea of not exercising every night has me freaking the fuck out. It’s my safety net. Without it I am lost. I am stressed out, crabby, and getting fatter by the minute (in my mind). I need my nightly run like I need a drug.

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