I went to bed angry. Nothing crazy, just annoyed that I could not find a "place" for myself. My neck hurt and I wanted to lie on my back (a pregnancy no-no). Instead,I was on my side with a pillow between my legs and three pillows elevating my ever-swollen foot. It is not the most comfortable sleeping arrangement. Wubby was licking his bone loudly and I was tossing and turning to find my spot. Albeit not the end of the world, by any means, but not my definition of fun either. I slept sort of poorly waking up at 2 a.m. and having trouble falling back to sleep due to Wubby's breathing - as an aside I am worried about Wubby being "too loud" for the baby to sleep in the same room as Wubby. Wubs will be crated but he is breathing loudly or licking this or that - it is kinda noisy. It is my new concern - what to do if Wubby is too loud for the baby - we think he will not be happy being kicked out of our room. I am thinking of a white noise machine. Anyone have any thoughts?
Wubby pretty much believes he owns the place
Ok, so that was a major digression to get to the point. So the point, I woke up tired, groggy and not really wanting to but needing to run - not need in the sense of training but need in the sense of "oh gosh, I need to pound the pavement and feel better." Runner's therapy so to speak. I debated giving in. Just hitting the treadmill or the elliptical. It was already late, as I had slept through my alarm, and it would have been easy to just throw in the towel before I ever picked it up. But one glimpse into the somewhat brisk, refreshing, and less humid morning air was too tempting to resist. So I put on my new $5 pair of bigger running shorts, a too small sports bra, and a too large running shirt and headed out - Garmin, Glee on the iPod and all - it was like the good all days.
Mile 1, I could tell I was angry. I was angry about my new "stupid" shorts that did not fit right and chaffed - stopping twice to adjust them. I was angry that I overslept. I was angry about the B*tch of a hill that I live by (to me it is pretty bad, but reality not so much) You name it, I found a reason to be angry about it.
Mile 1 - 9:44...
Mile 2 I started to let go. I started to recall how wonderful it was to run outside. How much I missed my Glee Music (yes I am serious) and how much I love being a runner.
Mile 2, 9:37
Mile 3, I continually remember these days why I love running so much. The so-called high of it. Of pushing hard, of going faster, of competing. Granted these days I feel like I am running with a little wagon behind me but regardless whether I am running 9s now or 10s as opposed to 7s or 8s a year ago, the feeling, the excitement, the highs are the same and are just as incredible.
Mile 3.1 - 9:04
Finishing my run, I felt alive. I felt happy. It was my first run with music and a Garmin in a while and I loved it. I did not punish myself about the times or worry. I just went with what worked, what felt good and boy did it feel good today.
Sometimes an early morning run is just what the doctor ordered...
Do you ever using running as therapy? Any suggestions on the Wubby noise situation?