I went to buy cargo pants the other night because my mother stole my last pair (by "stole," I mean I gave them to her and she took them back to OR), which I loved. I grabbed the few pairs of pants in my size (which are few and far between in a chain store that moved it's plus-size online), and hit the dressing room.
Huh, I thought, These pants are...too big? I went back out, grabbed a few more a size down, and well, look at that, these fit. It's the first pair of pants that the size doesn't start with a two I've bought in a very long time.
Instead of celebrating, or considering this a mark of my efforts, I started making up reasons why they didn't fit: they're a different cut of pants; they must be faking their sizes (I read that in an article the week before); it's only that store I'd fit into that size...
I battle with this little voice after every run. Today was a shorter run to increase speed, 1.5 miles. My guess while out on the run of where the turnaround was off a bit. So of course it wasn't a good run, I missed .04 part of it! I wouldn't have picked up my pace so much if I had just finished exactly .04...
This voice used to keep me from even lacing up the sneakers, or picking up that smaller size off the rack. As I'm getting older, I'm ignoring it more. I can tell the difference between my instinct (That dog foaming at the mouth? Not friendly!) and the inner critic (you're not going to finish a 5k, who are you fooling?). So I carry it around in my head, let it say it's thing, and walk up to the register to buy the cargo pants.
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