If I were to write a pop song about today, the title would be Let’s Not Get it Started in Here. Ever. I have been experiencing an extreme case of the I would prefer to sloth it up on my couch’s as opposed to my usual I totally think we should play hot lava and jump on the couch’s. Quite a swap, really.
Days like today are rare, and rarer still are days like today when even running sounds hard. Running sounded like a chore at 730, my prefered Thursday running hour. So I vaccumed and scrubbed the toilet in an effort to find some motivation. At 830, both running and cleaning remained chore-like. The hours kept rolling by, until finally at 330, I snapped out of my haze and thought, I at least have to try.
I am big on trying. Attempting. Putting in effort. At least tugging on a sports bra, a dingy T-shirt, and putting a foot out of the front door. I got myself down the porch stairs, onto the sidewalk, and started chugging. The first thirty seconds, I felt a bit sluggish. Then..
Bingo.
I did not mind being out there. It was another ten minutes before I felt comfortable, and then another five before I could use the word good to describe myself. It wasn’t the longest run, nor the shortest, the fastest but certainly not the slowest. It was a middle-of-the-road run (on the sidewalks! Promise!) that I needed to feel more myself.
Now, back at home, the sluggishness has been pushed out of me, and I’m ready to face the day. Fortunately, due to daylight savings time, there is plenty of day left for me to embrace.
Sunshine, get ready for a big hug!
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