Another month

The calendar turned over again.  Just when I thought there wasn't any way I could adjust my time last month it's over and a new one is starting.
I didn't know if my idea of running on the treadmill at the gym during the week would work.  I would only have my early morning weekends to run outdoors and I wasn't convinced I could keep up with a passable amount of miles doing it with that combination.  I opted to run very early mornings at the gym and with the 4th of July holiday and a few extra days off I was able to get some really nice outdoor runs done besides weekends, too.  Especially that one last week at the coast.  So I managed very well, all things considered, with 81 total miles for July.
The latter part of the month my mind was invaded with thoughts about my fiction writing.  It was a persistent, reoccurring thought that I had no control over and before I would realize it, I was pondering it over and over again.  What was holding me back, why couldn't I get past myself?  It's tough trying to figure out how to do something all by yourself.  It doesn't help when you remind yourself all the reasons you shouldn't be able to do it.  It doesn't help if you are uncertain about there being any degree of value to what you might be writing.
I could have asked for someone to read what I had but then, I thought, what position would I be putting them in?  If they didn't think is was good, they would still feel obligated to give me a positive response.  People would prefer not to deliver negatives and will naturally try to support my efforts.  I don't want to put them in that position and I would really, really prefer the feedback, negative included, in order to fix what I am doing wrong.  But it's never that simple and so I struggled on alone.  I knew I had to change my mental attitude.  It was getting too tough to do my best when I was always expecting the worst.
I found a writers site I could post some old short pieces I wrote ages ago.  I did that last week.  I'm not sure if it was that step or if I just finally put aside all my other thoughts about what was holding me back.  I started writing fiction again.  I realized how very close I am to the end of my story.  I have added and developed more in the past few days than I have in months.  There have been quite a bit of solid words that keep on coming.  I sat down last Saturday to attempt to write for 30-45 minutes and it turned into 3 1/2 hours before I stopped.
Somewhere along my recent way I turned that small corner from anxiety to getting it done.  Maybe posting those very old short pieces on that site was enough to give me the slightest amount of validation I might have needed. Just to have it there and knowing a handful of people had read it among all the other pieces written by others.
What a month.  I managed more than I thought when it started out. 
Here comes another.
TT