I tend to be pretty goal-oriented. I always like to have plans and thoughts and ideas going because I find it fun. Even when the ideas don’t pan out, I don’t usually mind too much. I move on to the next thing. I’m a dreamer, and to be a sane dreamer, you have to realize that sometimes your dreams won’t work out.

This winter, I put aside my fitness goals to save my sanity and my health. Moving consumed my life for longer than I had expected. In fact, it’s still kind of consuming my life. Not all of the boxes are unpacked. I haven’t lived in a house with four bedrooms as an adult, so all the extra space feels weird to me.

And then I got sick. I normally follow the ‘if the illness isn’t felt below your neck, you’re fine to work out’ rule of thumb, but in this case, watching my mother get sick before I did made me realize that would be a terrible idea. So I rested. And rested. And rested some more. I unpacked very few boxes and did some easy weights and yoga, but I did not work out outside. I put my goals (to run a 2:10 half-marathon  in March) aside. Staying healthy and keeping myself sane was more important.

I’ll still run the half in March. I’ll still have fun. I’ll be a little disappointed that I won’t (probably) be reaching a new PR, but I will  have gotten back into training as quickly as possible without feeling like a crazy person or putting my health at risk.

I feel pretty good about that.