Day 18: I should be running right now
It’s not too late! I won’t be leaving the office for another hour. I’m not particularly jazzed about doing work nor am I slammed with emails forcing me to do work. I should be running 3.5 miles. I’m not.
This is the first post of its kind (hopefully the last): the brutally honest procrastination post. I can’t even believe I’m writing it, because, well, if I have the time to write I have the time to run. But oh, how much do I not want to run right now? TONS. Thiiiiis much blog-embarrassment’s worth.
Earlier today I color-coded my training plan. Orange means I skipped a day. (As in, threat level orange?) Green means I tweaked the exercise that day or swapped the original plan for something else. Blue means I did it. (Achievement. Blue ribbon?) This very act should have inspired me to run but instead I lost all motivation sometime in the middle of attempting not to fall asleep at my desk.
I’m not running because I’m tired. It’s taking every inch of strength I’ve got right now to stay at work and half-assedly do my job. If I had a car here at work, I’d sleep in it, the way Dad used to in his Steelcase days. I even broke down and had a Diet Coke (I know that sounds idiotic, but I never drink soda anymore, and I couldn’t face another cup of coffee). I don’t know exactly how I got so tired — except that maybe I have become the person who needs 10 hours of sleep a night? is that possible? — but it’s been like this every day this week and it’s only getting worse. I have this theory that every year or so, I hit a wall on the 11-hour work day/daily commute thing and just can’t function anymore until I’ve done some kind of reset. So I think that’s why I’m tired. But how can I fix it? Ideas? Should I take my allergist up on her referral to the Stanford Sleep Clinic, and find out if I have apnea? (Or should I resist, on the principle that I truly can’t have more absurd medical conditions at the age of 26, especially not ones that make people shake their heads about Cadillac plans and the absurdities of overprescribing.)
Also, when I am like this, I always think, how the hell am I ever going to be a parent if I can’t even manage to be rested when I’m young and carefree?
I’ve now dawdled so long writing this that I no longer do have time to run, and instead I’m going to get a string cheese and keep blogging on Emmaterial. UGH. Worst.
