Oh my god I just fell asleep in line at Whole Foods.
It's 2:30 on a Wednesday afternoon and I'm standing in line waiting for a sandwich I don't want to eat. Well, actually I was standing - that is, until I decided it was a good time to catch some shut eye and fell into the coffee bar. I'm not hungry. I'm obviously tired. I'm freezing even though it's 95 degrees outside because I can't regulate my body temperature. My everything hurts. I look terrible.
No. No, I'm not okay. Bitch, I just fell into table of assorted creamers. But thank-you for asking!
In summation, I feel like total shit.
But you know what I don't feel like?
Doing anything! Not even running. Especially not running. I'll pause here for dramatic gasps and looks of general confusion, shock, horror and complete aghast-ness.
I'm late for every morning workout. I suffer through them and speed home after to try and get an extra 40 minutes of sleep in before work - which is made possible in part by not showering. I pound tea and coffee all day to keep from falling asleep at the computer, or at the wheel... or at local organic grocers. Then I go "run" which I now view as torture - after which my stomach immediately begins to wretch from the caffeine and the lunch I skipped while unknowingly working through my break. I go home with terrible stomach cramps, hop on skype and sit through hours of graphics discussion with a web team in India... all the while staring at all of my shit and telling it to pack itself via mind beams. (I'm moving. Ack).
Guys I'm not complaining. What's happening here is a complete and total meltdown and honestly, I'm not the least bit surprised. I expected this. What I didn't expect is just how bad it would get. Let me just put this out there: I fucking hate running right now. I mean, I like the idea of running, but ask me to do it and thanks, but I'll pass. But I don't pass and instead continue to force myself out the door with the highest of hopes that at some point along the run at some abstract mile I will start to feel better. Normal.
But it never comes.
Instead I watch people pass me, as my legs are unable to respond. My quads lock, my breath is short, I struggle to hold a 7:30 pace. Welcome to every day of my current life! Every single run I come to the brink of completely breaking down and sobbing uncontrollably, which of course would be fun for everybody. Sitting in my car in the dark of morning, tears streaming down my face knowing that I have to get out and run is a thrice occuring scenario.
This is what it feels like to train for 100 miles. This is where I find my breaking point. This is evidence of a summer well spent.
THIS is beautiful.