I Think I Can, I Think I Can...

I fell off the wagon.

OOOF!

I had a terrible run on Friday. It was forced, and achy, and just all around not a good time.
Saturday morning I woke up just not feelin' it.
So I skipped.

Sunday, was supposed to be my rest day but I got my butt out of bed.

(at 10.)

I put on my running clothes, went downstairs, poured a cup of coffee, ate my yogurt, and sat in front of the TV and watched an entire Planet Earth DVD.

Then the Vegas Race.

Seriously. NASCAR on a 65" TV. It's like you're driving!

Then I did some yard work. Moved the fire pit to a "prettier" spot.
Burned some brush. Made a mulch box. Chased the horses. Played with the puppies.

Basically everything that I've been putting off since we moved.

Monday came.

I've totally talked myself down. I'm just not feeling it. I don't want to run. In fact, I'm dreading it, but I know if I don't that I'll make an excuse every single day and never get back in the game (or my cute shorts.)

So, I went home. I started dinner. I changed into my running clothes, and down the road I went.

Warm-up: stretching the shoulders, talking myself up, breath-in breathe-out.
Run 3 walk 1: singing Free Fallin' makes 4 minutes pass quickly.
Run 3 walk 1: feeling pretty good.
Run 1 1/2: up a big ass hill.
Curse myself for thinking I could run up that hill, after 2 days off, and not want to lay down and die at the top.
Walk 45 seconds: until the world stops spinning, calves stop screaming, and the fire in my lungs is extinguished.
Run 5!: downhill momentum is a beautiful thing.
Walk 1
Run 4: to impress the 3 passing cars heavy traffic.
Cool down.

I did it! I got back out there and ran.

I Am Wonder Woman!

I was back in time to finish making dinner before the Cowboy got home.

A bottle of water. Meat, Rice, Veggie.

A (honestly, just one.) (large.) glass of "Mommy Juice".

By 8:00, I was dead to the world!

and I feel AWESOME!