So usually I run a race on the Fourth of July. What else are holidays for, right? But not this year, and let me tell you this morning I was pretty bitter about it.
Last night I was cleaning up and getting ready to go up to bed when J's sister called and said she and a friend wanted to come over and borrow a movie. Despite the fact that I said I didn't care if they came over, I did care, and I ended up staying up late and skipping the race. I ran a little bit pushing B in the stroller this morning, but I was not into it at all, so I turned back early. Oh, and I may have been so mad at myself that I may not have only kicked myself but kicked a door frame and bruised my toe.
On one hand, I know I completely overreacted. But on the other hand if I could channel the energy from getting mad into my training, it would be great.
I've been getting back into training over the past few days, just doing a little easy mileage. Friday I ran four miles after the kids went to bed, Saturday I ran six miles, Sunday I ran a little under three, and Monday I ran five miles including a few strides over the last mile and a half.
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