Once I was really awake, I knew that I would regret my decision to sleep late. The kids started bickering as soon as they stepped out of bed with J-Bug sobbing three times before she made it to the breakfast table. I sighed, wishing that I had some post-run endorphins to help me ride the tidal wave of emotions erupting in our house.
Somehow, we survived the rocky start and had a surprisingly good morning. Some fresh air and friends helped to turn all of our moods around. By the time everyone was down to nap, I really just wanted to crash and regroup, but I knew that I'd be frustrated with myself if I blew off my run for a second time. I changed into running clothes, knocked the dust off my treadmill, and got down to work.
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My brain could tell that I'd been away from the treadmill for quite some time. The first mile was agonizingly long and painful as I watched each second tick by on the display. I found something of a groove late in the run, but it never really became easy. When I finished, however, I felt unexpectedly happy. Although I battled mental monkeys throughout the run, when it was over, I felt like a million bucks. I was proud of myself for following through and logging some miles today. It would have been easy to skip it entirely, but I chose to do the hard thing and run on the treadmill at an awkward time of day. While the numbers were nothing extraordinary, the feeling of accomplishment was overwhelming. This treadmill run was surely successful, but I'll think twice before I snooze my early alarm again...
