When I hit my halfway training mark last week, I uploaded a screenshot of the past nine and a half weeks of my training schedule onto social media. I track my progress on a document that details every workout of my 19-week program. Workouts I complete get a check mark next to them, and those I skip are blemished with a big red X. Halfway into my training program, there is only one X.

I felt very pleased with myself as I shared this not so humble brag on Instagram. But in the past week, that pride has soured. While those check marks represent dedication, discipline and a lot of hard work, they also stand for all of the times I exercised when I should have rested and for all the opportunities I turned down because I had a workout to do.

I’ve always been obsessed with working out consistently. Friends have speculated that I might have an exercise disorder, but mostly people just say it’s impressive and that they “could never.” That being said, working out six days a week isn’t anything new for me. The difference between my marathon training schedule and my normal schedule is simply that I now track my workouts.

In week four of training, I skipped my first session — a Friday three mile speed-run I was simply too exhausted to motivate myself for. Rest was likely the right decision, but writing that red X on my schedule felt awful. I’m no stranger to the guilt of skipping a workout. Usually the guilt only follows me for a few days, but that red X has haunted me for over a month.

My workouts are woven into my daily schedule of classes and work, so it’s easy to follow my routine and get them done. But, my routine is planned so intricately that there is no room for error, and it’s becoming stifling. I’m “productive” every day from the moment I wake up until about an hour before I go to sleep. The reality of training for a marathon when you’re a full-time student working two jobs is there aren’t enough hours in the day. Life doesn’t stop for running.

By meticulously following my schedule, I’ve been able to juggle marathon training with life. But as I’ve fallen into the rhythm of routine, I’ve become stubborn. I’m so routine-oriented that the prospect of spontaneity and fun stresses me out. My mom and I have just planned a trip to Tahoe for spring break to go skiing, and my first reaction wasn’t excitement, but anxiety over whether I’d be able to fit in my workouts while on vacation. This is not something I’m proud of, and it’s not the first time it’s happened.

I can remember dozens of times that I’ve come back from a day of skiing or hiking and forced myself to go to the gym when my body was begging for rest. Because these activities didn’t fit into my definition of exercise, they didn’t count as a workout. Just last Thursday, I dragged myself to the gym after a six mile hike because I didn’t want to put another red X on my schedule. I spent the whole workout dazed and out of it — staring at the wall blankly between sets and dreading each rep.

The issue with tracking my workouts so obsessively is it villainizes rest as laziness and failure. In a previous column, I wrote about how discipline is much more important for consistency than motivation, but consistency doesn’t pay off when you’re overworking your body. Sometimes, a workout can do more harm than good, which I didn’t understand when I wrote that column. That week, I risked extreme injury by stubbornly running in treacherously icy conditions without spikes. A quarter mile from home, my feet flew out from under me and I landed hard on the ice. Luckily, I limped away with only a bruise and a cut, but I risked giving up the entire marathon for six measly training miles. Sometimes, you need to know when to throw in the towel. It’s not a sign of weakness — it’s a sign of intelligence.

Moving forward, I’m going to be rethinking the way I track my progress, and re-contextualizing those red X’s. I remember exactly what I did the day I got my only X — I relaxed, I got dinner with a friend and I got back on the horse and ran 11 miles the next day. My progress didn’t suffer. It didn’t cause a chain reaction of laziness. I simply rested, recovered and got back to it. So, from now on, I will choose to see blemishes on my training record as times I’ve been wise enough to listen to my body, and as times that my life has been so full I simply couldn’t fit it all in.