Sunday, February 01, 2009
Do I look like God's pinata to you?
I must have some cosmic 'whack me with a metaphysical baseball bat' sign put on me when I wasn't looking.
And I ain't sweet and full of candy -- that's my last working brain cell you hear rattled around inside my head.
And I swear if I don't get a day off soon I'm going to fall off the exercise wagon and go huddle under the blankets until the world goes away.
And I might even whine a bit, in a self-pitying way.
Exercise du jour: Well fine. Thirty minutes of running, with three sprints thrown in, if I feel like it, which leaves 27 minutes for feeling sorry for myself, thinking negative angst-ridden thoughts, and whining to the dog about how hard life is. Hey, it's a schedule.
The nice thing about my schedule is that it's flexible. Went outside and ran half the distance, then jog/walked the rest. Tried to run some more indoors tonight; the calves were against it. Feels like a FAIL, but I'm going to count it because what the hell; it was still exercise. Would love to figure out why some nights are fabulous and other nights it all seems completely futile.