So, Saturday's high has yet to wear off. I'm sure it will when I do my hour run this coming Saturday, but so far - it's the greatest feeling yet.
Unfortunately, my body has said 'what the eff do you think you're trying to do', and has refused to participate in training since Saturday.
This is not to say I haven't been training, I just mean - it's been the most difficult week yet.
On Saturday I mentioned my 'running world'. That's the world where I can't stick around and have a beer on a Saturday because I need to do a run. The world where socializing with friends (rare enough as is) becomes practically non-existent.
Well, I was reminded of this world again on Sunday. Sunday is the start of the next running week, so I am meant to run 40 minutes. I had the day off (hallelujah) so spent it cleaning the apartment while Jeff worked his non-magic at his fishing tournament (not so hallelujah). Why I chose to spend a Sunday off cleaning is beyond me, but that's what I did.
In the evening, I went to Jeff's parents for supper (a bit of a routine we've set up), completely drained from a day of cleaning. And as always, I was offered my routine glass of wine. "Oh yes please!" said my aching tired body that was on strike from anything healthy/running related. My brain said 'Just one glass so I can still run after supper'. After supper, the question of refills was put out...and my body won.
Whatever, no biggie - Monday is a rest day, so we'll just re-organize.
Monday I spent working on fundraising related business. Very emotionally exhausting. When Jeff got home, we sat down to look at the plan from now until the last deadline together. By the time we were done, it was 9pm.
'No way in hell I am running for 40 minutes at 9pm' said my body.
'Fine, but you're going to do some pilates' said my brain.
And so, I moved my cross-training day to Monday.
Yesterday, I worked a 12.5 hour day between my two jobs. I knew I wasn't going to run when I got home from work, so I woke up with Jeff and went in the morning. It felt good to be out so early....sort of anyway.
'What the heck are we doing vertical already' said my body.
'Just move, it's a little cold, I want to get warm' said my brain.
'Why are we running for 3 minutes, we've never run for 3 minutes' said my body.
'If you run for 3 minutes, I'll let you run for 1 minute on the way back' said my brain.
'Wait, this isn't the way back?' said my body.
I then got hotter than I've ever felt. I made it through my 40 minute run and felt challenged - which I should since during the week is about improving speed so I push myself on these runs. Either way, my body did not agree once again and I was hit with an overwhelming wave of nausea.
In addition, when I woke up this morning for today's 40 minute run, I could barely stay upright. I chose to go back to sleep for 40 minutes, as I have an 11-hour day ahead and need to be with it. I'm hoping my body will give in a little by tonight.
At the very least, it's week 3 of training. My body has finally figured out that this whole running thing is not just some mean joke I'm trying to play on it, but rather, reality. I figure it will be on strike for the rest of the week, but will accept it's destiny by this time next week.
Here's hoping!
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