Last Friday I was like a drug addict with withdrawal symptoms, who was suddenly let loose in a meth factory. I went on a spree, overjoyed that I could finally run again after almost two weeks of illness. I started running when I finished work and didn't stop until I came home last night.
Ok, I might be exaggerating a little bit. But I have been out running 4 days in a row, apparently trying to make up for lost time. Today I had planned a day's rest, and here I am, resting. I feel really tired, though not because of training, but because of two long work days one after the other. I even -gasp!- took the car to work this morning. Here I was yesterday, on my way to work, laughing at all the losers stuck in their cars during rush hour, while I ran past them, elegantly yet vigorously. This morning I was the loser, scraping ice off the car windows and cursing because we still hadn't put the bloody winter tyres on.
Tomorrow it's back to run commuting, but with a twist. On schedule: run to husband's workplace (about 8 km) and then go climbing. Should be fun!
Ok, I might be exaggerating a little bit. But I have been out running 4 days in a row, apparently trying to make up for lost time. Today I had planned a day's rest, and here I am, resting. I feel really tired, though not because of training, but because of two long work days one after the other. I even -gasp!- took the car to work this morning. Here I was yesterday, on my way to work, laughing at all the losers stuck in their cars during rush hour, while I ran past them, elegantly yet vigorously. This morning I was the loser, scraping ice off the car windows and cursing because we still hadn't put the bloody winter tyres on.
Tomorrow it's back to run commuting, but with a twist. On schedule: run to husband's workplace (about 8 km) and then go climbing. Should be fun!
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