Comparisons, pity parties and brain squirrels

Image courtesy of the Stock Exchange

I'm usually pretty good with comparing myself to others.

By which I mean that I don't often compare myself; and when I do, I'm generally fairly easy with noticing differences, and just acknowledging them without putting a moral value on one being better than the other.

Generally.

Some days, though, my insecurities rise to the surface and I can't help a/ comparing myself; and b/ finding myself coming up short.  Especially when my brain squirrels are particularly active.

You know brain squirrels? They're those little rodent thoughts that go round and round and round in your head, chittering on and on, telling you all sorts of negative stuff you know intellectually is utter garbage, but you can't help believing because deep down, you're afraid it's probably true even if it makes no sense whatsoever when you look at it logically.  I think we probably all have infestations now and then, but when they're particuarly active, they can make us feel like we're the only ones who have this kind of crazy inside our brains. Yeah. Those are brain squirrels.

I've been experiencing a bit of a brain squirrel infestation recently around comparing myself to the fitter, more determined people in my life. My sister-in-law, for example, who was run down by a car on a pedestrian crossing back in February, was told she'd be in wheelchair for at least 3 months, and that she should say goodbye to her plans of running the New York marathon.  Two months later, she was on her feet again, a couple of weeks later she was walking with a cane, and a couple of weekends ago, she walked New York in the extremely respectable time of 6 hours & change.

Yesterday I was out on the road with one of the sports nutrition reps at work, who's a posterchild for using the products she's selling. She's training for a half-Iron Man triathlon; and is currently doing something between 2-3 hours training a day for it. She was talking to one of our customers about her training (after the customer asked, it should be acknowledged), and mentioning that when she started training, she was at 20% bodyfat. Right now, she's at 14%.  I have a "4" in my bodyfat levels too, if my scales are to be believed. But it comes at the beginning of the number, not the end.

I know we're all different, and we all have different goals and start from different places and we're all special, special snowflakes in and of ourselves :-S. I know they're them and I'm me.  But there's a part of me that was just feeling... huge and whale-like and lazy and excuse-ridden and impatient (and, let's not beat around the bush here, self-pitying) right through yesterday because I'm not where they are. It's the height of dumb, I know.  But it is what it is.  Or was, since I have to admit, I'm feeling a little less down on myself this morning after a semi-decent night's sleep than I was yesterday.

Part of the sudden onset of comparison-itis, I think is because I probably overdid my run on Tuesday a bit.  I spent most of the day afterwards with legs that were... not sore, exactly, but incredibly stiff, and almost dead-feeling - they just didn't want to move, and walking was slow, arduous and fairly limpy.  It was a little better yesterday (more sore, less dead, still a little limpy), but I took a complete rest day just in case.

I tried running this morning, but my legs told me clearly after about 2 steps that it was NOT happening, so I just ended up walking a shortened version of the route instead. And as I walked, I reminded myself over and over that my primary goal is to get to the end of the month uninjured (which I don't think I technically am YET) and that any and every other exercise-related goal is secondary. 

I also tried, while I was walking, to focus on being grateful for the knowledge that, whatever I've done, it can't be TOO serious, or I wouldn't be walking at all; and that at the end of the day, seen from the vantage of a long-term training plan, a couple of days out is far from the end of the world. And to be honest, that helped a little - plus I suspect just getting outside and doing something, even if it wasn't the run I'd planned, helped to play whack-a-mole with the brain squirrels that had survived the night.

I'm not sure whether I want to ask for support or a kick up the attitude here.  Maybe both? Intellectually, I know that comparisons between myself and others are less than useless. I know that having to take a few days out because I might have pushed things too hard is much better than having to take a few weeks (or gods help me, MONTHS) out because I didn't listen to my body when it first told me I'd pushed things too hard.  I know these things, but I'm having difficulty believing them deep down, because my brain squirrels' chitterings and chatterings keep on drowning the knowledge out.

What brain squirrels do you find yourself dealing with on a regular basis? And what do you do to quiet them down?