The last few days have been ROUGH! Sunday night Riley didn't sleep...which means mommy didn't sleep either. Poor baby is sick, and it was grueling. Anyhow, Monday I was dragging. I had planned on doing an 8 mile run but by the time the kids' bedtime rolled around I didn't want to go anywhere. But, I laced up my Asics and headed out the door. Running usually energizes me (exercise in general actually) so I figured that a run would be just the thing to help battle the fatigue.
Unfortunately that was not the case. It was one of those runs where nothing felt right. At the 3 mile mark I turned around and headed for home. I'm disappointed I only ran 6 miles instead of 8, but most people wouldn't have even gone out. My watch died so I have no clue how long it took me. I couldn't seem to get my stride right. My left leg started killin' me. I was so tired I didn't have the energy to run very quickly. Basically I had to repeat over and and over in my head "be the tortoise" just to make it home. I'm very proud of myself for gutting it out, but it was a horrible feeling. My calf still hurts today, I have blisters from the wrong socks, and I'm still tired. I got home and Riley was crying so it was straight back into mommy mode.
I did get to thinking though that my mantra "be the tortoise" was apt. Think of losing weight as a race. Getting to the finish is the only objective. Don't be the hare...sprinting out at the start, burning out and laying down for a nap. Slow and steady wins the race. Just keep plodding along and before you know it, you've reached the finish line.