I was supposed to run a virtual race this weekend, a 10K. I do enough running that 6.2 miles doesn’t really bother me anymore, and yet, I couldn’t get ‘er done this weekend. See we should’ve done it on Friday. There is absolutely no excuse for not doing it on Friday as intended. Saturday we got up, got our gear on and left the house. We even ran about .75 miles out, but the wind was so hard it was practically blowing us off the road and was, at very least, blowing sand and gravel in our eyes. To add insult to injury, SportyPal crapped out on me and I couldn’t even be sure how far we’d run (I mapped our run when we got back). Nice. Neither of us could face doing the remaining (turns out 4.7) miles on the treadmill, but I was in a pickle. I always do my step and athletic conditioning classes on Sunday and they really take it out of me. Plus, I workout with my sister, which is a commitment I don’t like to back out on. So I figured I’d knock it out on my own during my normal workout time (plus a little) on Monday morning.
That pile of clothes is the closest I got. Ben, who is finally to the point where he sleeps through the night consistently, was on some kind of crazy schedule yesterday. He had a three-hour morning nap at 11 AM. Then he went to bed at 6 PM (and only that late because we kept him up, trying to get him to eat). Then at about 3:30 he was ready to roll. We, on the other hand, were not. I also went to bed extra late since I spent an extra THRITY minutes trying to find my mp3 player when I was already up too late. So when I, in a zombie-like stupor, hit the “snooze” button this morning to buy myself a paltry 5 minutes, I actually turned off my alarm. Sweet! Missed my run and was almost late leaving for work.
Sounds like somebody’s got a case of the Mondays.
Aww sorry.