Highs and Lows

High – Going to FL.
Low – Getting a phone call from mother-in-law the Thursday we were in FL with some very shocking news.
High – Long run in FL of 11 miles at 11:05 pace.
Low – Chafing between my ass cheeks during that run.
Low – Coming home.
High – Seeing my critters.
Low – Finding out more details on the shocking news that my MIL called about.
High – Memorial Day with the family.
Low – Father-in-law lost his job after 41 years with the same company.
Lower than low – Realizing (again) that people are evil.  They will do or say anything if they think they have something to gain from it, no matter how much of a LIE it is or how much it will make someone else suffer.
Even lower than that – Realizing how truly effed up our justice system is.  Innocent until proven guilty, my ass.
Low – Going back to work after 10 days away.
High – At least I have a job to go back to.
High – Set a new 3-mile PR.
High – Set a new 6-mile PR.
Low – Couldn’t hack it during my scheduled 13-mile long run today.  Cut it to 10 miles and walked the last two of those.  Stress?  Lack of sleep?  Dehydration?  81 and no shade?  Probably all of the above.
Low – Chafed arm pits.

I’m really struggling right now.  Not with the running.  Screw the running.  This was one bad day.  We all have them.  I ran strong during my midweek runs.  Next weekend will be better.  I’m struggling emotionally.  I hate seeing the people I love hurting.  I hate the fact that it’s so senseless.  I hate the fact that we live in such a litigious society.  I hate people that want something for nothing and will do whatever they can to try to get it.  I hate the fact that our judicial system caters to these people.  I hate the fact that I’m so weak that I’ve let these people get to me the way they have.  I hate that I’m struggling with my faith right now.  As a Christian, I know I’m supposed to pray for my enemies, and I hate that I’m not strong enough to do that.  Well, I’ve DONE it, but come on, this is God we’re talking about.  He knows I didn’t mean it.  He knows what I really feel in my heart, and He knows that it’s nothing but pure and raw hatred.

I keep telling myself, “God’ll get ’em.”  But how wrong is it that I want a front-row seat when he does?