I'm still a bag of bones today. Terrible recovery from yesterday's run - the worst I've ever felt, in spite of having done everything by the book. I was supposed to run 4 miles today but not in a million years was I going to even make a gesture to try. 14 miles in a storm is a damn lot. I guess the lesson is, you don't just fight that kind of battle and walk away without a scratch. I'm not discouraged though. I will recover - in a day or so.
I've had a super busy day today. Up at 5AM for work and not home until after 10:30 PM. Right now my eyes are shutting as I type this. The effects of having had so much caffeine and sugar goo yesterday were quite depleting. I wasn't able to sleep deeply last night; and today, I tried coffee to restart the cycle of perkiness but it didn't catch. I've been drinking tons of water - hoping to clear my system of toxins, consuming Advil - to numb the muscle pain so that I can move about in the world, and will finally fall into bed in a few minutes - possibly foregoing removing my mascara.
14 miles in 4.5 months. For a while now I've been challenging myself to really understand my own motivations. How (mechanically and emotionally) am I managing this? On the surface, the cost is still a lot greater than the benefits... It doesn't make any sense for me to carry on when every cell in my body wants to stop.
I now have the answer to this question - much earlier in the game than I'd thought I would - and I am going to share it with you.
But you're going to have to wait until tomorrow because I'm beat!
well now that's not really fair leaving us hanging like that!
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