6 am on Saturday, the alarm went off. I was tired, and hit the snooze button. I was achy from laying crooked on the couch reading the night before. I may have missed 1 or 2 work out sessions the previous week, which means I was super cranky (ok, maybe even PMS-y). Hubby and I had been squabbling over unimportant things (I still really want that desk for the den!). I had a Nyquil hangover from the allergy attack I gave myself on Friday by tearing my room apart looking for my running belt. I still didn't know where the belt is, so I knew I was going to have to velcro a snack size bag of chewies to my arm band, which means I should drop them about 3 times over the 10 miles. It was raining. I had every excuse to stay in bed. I didn't.
I thought ahead, and hit a bottle of Lemon Tea Nuun in the bushes that I would pass up to 4 times, depending on how I ran my loopy route. It was mid 60s and drizzly, but being the good New Englander I am, I had my sunglasses perched on top of my head, just in case.
|The rainy run. If you look closely at the hills, you can see the fog heavy on the trees. |
This was taken around mile 7 or so.
It was one of those silent cries, where your tears are streaming down your face. I sat there for a few minutes, until I was exhausted and empty. I stood up, and looked around. It was still raining, but seemed brighter. I tentatively tried a few strides, it felt good. I unpaused the GPS and ran up the hill. And I kept going for another 8 or so miles. I hit 10 miles as I ran up my driveway. I was smiling.