Post 2 — Every Damn Mile

During the week, I’m a machine. I’m up at 4:30 a.m. — not because I’m a morning person, but because that’s the only time life hasn’t started demanding things from me yet.

Weekdays are where I do the real work:

• Running
• Walking
• Lifting
• Yoga
• Hydrating
• Pretending I have my life together

I’m disciplined. I’m focused. I’m borderline impressive.

And then the weekend hits.

Weekends are where the wheels fall off — loudly, dramatically, and usually with tequila involved. Suddenly I’m sleeping in like I’ve never met a sunrise. Suddenly fitness is… optional. Suddenly I’m making choices that Past Tammy would absolutely judge.

It’s:

• Too much alcohol
• Too little water
• Too many “I deserve this” moments
• Not enough “my body will hate me for this” moments
• And a complete abandonment of the weekday version of myself

But here’s the thing: I always come back.

Monday morning, 4:30 a.m., I’m right back at it — running on regret, electrolytes, and the kind of determination that only comes from knowing you did not treat your body like a temple over the weekend.

I’m not perfect. I’m not consistent. I’m not even pretending to be.

But I am showing up — every damn mile, every damn week, even when the weekend tried to take me out.

And honestly? That’s my superpower.

“Weekday me is a warrior. Weekend me is a liability. Running is the only thing keeping the peace between us.”

And if bad decisions burned calories, I’d be an elite athlete by now.

“Some miles are fueled by electrolytes. Others by regret. This is both.”