Running well again this week. Thankfully. Need something to keep me buoyed up. If I relied on my husband to add to my self-esteem I would be a quivering wreck. It should have been a great weekend: daughter had 8th birthday; it was Mothering Sunday and a bank holiday. Fat chance... I was left to arrange everything for the birthday, Mothering Sunday was overlooked (again) and we did nothing of any note. The most penetrating conversation we had was which plates I was planning to use for the dinner.
I had a great job when I met my husband and earned as much as he did. I spend lots of time agonising about my current lack of economic worth. The last time we moved, I got a job. We needed the money and I needed to feel like the sum of my existence was greater than my ability to create 101 pasta dishes. But here I am again: jobless, virtually husbandless and in a strange land without any support.
As I've said before on this blog, one of the reasons that running has become so important is that I respect myself for it. If all else is going wrong, I have this one thing which I have succeeded at for the day. Today, I ran 27 laps (about 7 km) which ain't too bad for a bird my age....
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