It's supposed to get easier

Isn't it supposed to get easier?

This thought repeated itself through my head as I struggled through what should have been an easy 6 mile run.  I had to break it into two 5Ks and still barely finished. I've been struggling with running this winter.

I've been struggling with a lot more than running this winter.

Hell, it's been a struggle filled year.

Ten months ago, I left a job I thought was horrible. I thought the work was boring and there was no future with the company. I was snotty and self-righteous. I left for what I thought was greener pastures.

I was warned that the first year would be rough. I didn't realize that the first year would be marked by such frustrating levels of insecurity and self-doubt that sometimes I think parking my car is the only thing I do correctly. I get out of the car and immediately start doing things incorrectly. I never know for sure if I am doing anything right but, boy, they let me know when I'm wrong.

Every day I tell myself that it's going to get better. It's going to get easier. But it doesn't seem to get any easier. It seems to get harder and harder to put up with the condescending remarks, the arbitrary and shallow processes, the remarkably unfriendly personnel. It digs deeper each day.

Running got easier. It never got easy-- but it got easier. I was at the gym tonight after a miserable 10 hours at the office preceded by a late night of doing schoolwork. I resisted the urge to ignore my healthy lunch and hit the vending machine for every chocolate product in there. I was at the gym, so why was running a simple 5K so damn hard? Was it because I did a strong tempo run last night and my legs were tired? Was my bra/tank combo too tight and making it hard to breath? Did I eat enough today? Am I just tired?  

Or, is it just life?