As of Tuesday afternoon, I had not run in 5 days. I did have moments of activity in those days, but there were also too many moments of doing nothing active. I don’t think I’ve missed 5 days of running since the week after my first marathon, but circumstances conspired to make running impossible this past week.
Tuesday afternoon, I reached “that point”. You all know it. I’m sure most of you have felt the same feeling at least to some degree.
I had to run.
Running was no longer an option. It was a requirement. It was a matter of life or death (or at least a matter of having any ability to be a decent mom. For those who don’t know, running is what keeps me from needing anti-depressants. If I don’t run, I get depressed and it manifests itself as anger at the world.)
The boys were in the middle of the 5,234,987th argument of the day and I just walked out the door. (Don’t worry, Beer Geek was in the same room with them.) I ran 3 hard miles. The last mile was mostly uphill and I did it in 9:04. This was not an easy run. This was a push and then push some more run.
When I walked back in the door, I could be a good mom again. Thank God for endorphins.