I’m running a 3.5 mile race today. I know, I know, I’m not a runner. I still relate to that post, but alas, here I am, lacing up the kicks for what can only be described as voluntary physical and mental pain. I’ve been running early in the morning before work for the past few weeks to get myself into some sort of shape. After nearly collapsing after a slow two miles yesterday, I’m just as slow and lung capacity-deprived as I imagined I would be come race day. Excellent.
Over-exertion aside, I am not a morning person. I have no idea how I’ve been forcing myself out of bed at 6AM when my eyes are burning so badly that it feels like someone put hot coals on them. I legitimately don’t know what I’ve been telling myself in order to get out of bed instead of sleeping for another 60 minutes. Seriously, I remember nothing. When I finally make it outside, I’m still so tired and I’m like Wait. I don’t remember agreeing to this. Who put me on this pavement with the sunrise? No, seriously, I’m so exhausted that I don’t know what I’m doing.
I rarely even remember actually running, which is both good and bad. Good, because I’m exercising yet not recalling the torture. Bad, because, well that can’t be safe (don’t worry Mom, I’m on sidewalks!)
All joking aside (yeah, okay) here’s a
a story an uninteresting fact. I’ve been wearing this shirt for about a month and a half. For about a month and a half I’ve been thinking Gee, I sure wish this shirt had thumb holes for these chilly mornings.
You guys. This picture is from TUESDAY. I JUST realized that these existed. Now do you believe me that I’ve been sleep-running at 6AM every day?
Wish me luck this afternoon. I’m not sure if I remember how to run while awake.