It's been averaging, oh high 100s since Saturday's debacle. I've only "run" once. Despite all my moaning and bitching, I don't skip runs. It's totally due to fear, not to any dedication or commitment, believe me (although I am dedicated AND committed. Honest. Or should be). But I awoke Monday at 5:30 to a dark dreary rainy humid hot morning and I just couldn't do it. I reset the clock for 7:30 and slept in!
A brilliant move since we all know how it cools down during the daytime.
I decided to try four miles at 5 p.m., and in another burst of brilliance (that really was smart) I left the watch home and decided to cover the four miles however I could. It was 99 F. Three miles in, I started walking, walked for 1/2 mile, then shuffled the last 1/2 mile back to work.
You know how they say once you get out there you'll be glad you did?
They are so wrong.
But as as my encouraging co-worker TallGirl said the next morning: "That's more than most people did!" Amen.
Tuesday was a "rest" day, seeing how I'd exerted myself so much on Monday. I also had to be at a conference downtown by noon, so the morning was spent trying to work, in between 25 phone calls from Number One Daughter, who was trying to wrap up her job, and get a second opinion on our car.
NOD and the BF were leaving on Wednesday (today) on an extended road trip to visit relatives in the Hamptons (hers not his) and then drive on to St. Catherine's, Ontario, site of the 125th Royal Canadian Henley this weekend in which BF is rowing. Only at the very last minute the organizers added heats on Friday, which BF hadn't planned on, which meant less time in the Hamptons, and, lots of ensuing complications and planning. Plus there were birthday presents to prepare for the cousin (a mix CD of goodbye songs for her semester abroad! all the songs had to be about leaving or traveling. Now that was FUN!) that we played around with til 1 a.m.
So the thing about staying up until 1 is, you don't much feel like getting up at 5:30 to run.
And we all know what happens when you skip a run.
That's what happens.
This week so far:
It's too freakin' hot.
I ate too much crap at another conference.
My sleep is all outta whack.
I'm sick of running.
I spent $500 on car at the dealer, who didn't find a cracked casket (ha ha, i wrote CASKET instead of GASKET!) or anything other than a bunch of fluids needing replacing or flushing or whatever it is they do with fluids. Of course, after we picked up the car, it immediately started overheating.
I. Am. Very. Cranky.
But you know me by now: Cranky or not I have a job to do—I'm here to shine the spotlight of optimism on whatever little tidbits of joy there are in this worrisome world. To that end, I give you:
Happy Nixon Resigns Day!