As I have said a few times on here, running has drawn out a certain amount of mental discipline that is pretty lacking in other areas of my life.
Two examples, I returned from holiday recently after not running for a week. This would be a time when energy and motivation would be at its lowest. I arrived home six in the evening, when I would have welcomed a well-earned rest after travelling from Gatwick aeroport and travelling on the tube and bus to get back home. I left a note on my bedroom door to just get the hell out there and run - and I did.
I was tired, my hip was hurting as a ate bread and I suspect I have a gluten allergy. But still, I did it. Not the best run, but I ran, regardless.
Second example was actually just a few days ago. For some reason, I had a stomach ache which was crippling, I even tried to go out there, but I was bent over walking like a cripple. I just went back home. Instead of giving up. I laid down on the bed, still in my running gear and decided to wait to see if the cramp subsided, which it did. It didn't go away altogether.
I still went out there and did my half an hour, albeit a bit later than usual.
I am the laziest woman on the planet, but somehow, when it comes to running, I draw strength and discipline from somewhere.
The reason why I am bothering to write this is because it is soaking wet outside right now and shows no signs of dying down and STILL, I will rise and run through it.