On Sunday, I knew I had to run. I hadn't done any exercise since my pathetic 20 minutes at the gym last Thursday. I was sitting in my apartment listening to the wind which sounded like, at any minute, it would rip my entire apartment building off the ground and take me to a faraway land with talking animals and good and bad witches.
I did not want to go anywhere.
After about 2 hours of procrastinating, I finally got my running gear on and got myself out the door. I ran slowly down the block and to the park. At some point, the wind hit me so hard from the front I felt like it was trying to knock me down while reaching down into my lungs and ripping the breath right out of me. My eyes were tearing so much I had to wipe my face. My cheeks were freezing.
I made it around the park once, stopping a few times along the way to walk because I couldn't breathe well, was being knocked around by the wind, or just felt exhausted. By the time I finished, ran my errands, and got back home, I was wiped out. So utterly finished. I crawled back into my PJs and sat on my couch listening to the wind. I took a 2 hour nap after a 3.5 mile run.
I was supposed to run 6 miles this weekend. I didn't accomplish that. But, I got out there.
