I was supposed to run six last night. One mile easy; two miles moderate; two miles hard and back to one mile easy to finish. I had it all worked out. But, But! But. No such luck. This is what I remember: I got home, threw my keys in a basket, sat on the couch to read mail…and nothing. I must have promptly fallen asleep, an unopened letter in my hand, my coat barely unbuttoned. The only reason why I awoke at all was because the bossier of two cats was crying for Kisa. It’s a boy thing. The room had grown very dark and for a long minute I was disorientated. Somehow I had kicked off one shoe and knocked over an empty seltzer bottle. I was sweaty and didn’t know the day of the week. Disconcerting to say the least. When I finally collected my senses and my wits were accounted for, I contemplated a shorter run – just to say I had done something before 3/19. Throwing that out as silly I considered short weight training sessions or a short(er) yoga routine. Every idea seemed stupider than the last at such a late hour. In the end I fed the cats and went back to bed, making sure to take off the other shoe.
I’m not going to whine about this “decision” to not run. I’m not going to say I fell off the wagon or anything nearly as drama queen as all that. Obviously, I was exhausted. At any other time this would be the time to taper. I mean, I do have a hilly 10k in three days.
In other news, this morning I did a little fund raising for Just Cause and received a donation just like snap. Here’s the funny thing – when I asked Mr who he wanted me to walk in honor/memory of he said “Mrs ExWife…even though I can’t stand the be-yotch.” Too funny.