Ah yesterday. A fine fall Monday morning. I woke up at 4:20 am, feeling a tad unmotivated. But I still got myself to the track for my morning run. Once I got warmed up, things moved along so well that I was able to break my personal record for a 5 mile run by 5 and 1/2 minutes! Imagine my excitement! I was giddy all day long, not to mention I also got to go to the dentist that afternoon. (Which I absolutely adore, and no, I'm not being sarcastic. If you had my dentist, you'd understand.) I think it was the finest Monday in the history of Mondays.
Now on to Tuesday. Another fine fall morning. I woke up at 4:00 am today, the earlier time was to facilitate a longer run. Too bad a longer run just wasn't going to happen. The best laid plans and all that... I do my warm up lap, my stretches, and take my first few running steps. Yikes. My muscles were in full on rebellion. I really didn't feel like I had pushed myself the day before, but apparently I don't have a clue when it comes to this body of mine. So here I am, shambling around the track like the unholy undead not even 24 hours after my record breaking morning run. I toughed it out through 4 miserable miles and then gave up and just walked another 2. I didn't wake up 2 hours before the sun came up to quit at 4 miles.
The funniest thing about this morning's miserable zombie-esque run is that I tried to be upset about it. I tried to be angry, irritated, peeved, even miffed. But for some reason, I just ended up feeling grateful I could get up and do anything at all this morning. I felt so glad to have legs that could move me around the track, even if it wasn't pretty. I kept tossing negative thoughts around my brain and every time they were countered by some fuzzy wuzzy feel good statement. Maybe it's all those endorphins. Good run or bad run, exercise still makes you feel fantastic. I think this running thing is going to be really great for my outlook on life :)