Today's run was destined to go poorly.
It started with yesterday's late afternoon phone call from James telling me that, because temperatures were predicted to drop to or below freezing, he would need to go into work at midnight to supervise the workers spraying plants with water to protect the new buds from frost damage.
I normally have little trouble sleeping well, even in strange places, but every once in a while, I wake up at 3 am and my mind goes places that - upon waking - are foolish and insane.
Last night, I woke up at 3 am, heart pounding, convinced someone was in my house and cursing James, because if he were here, the thought wouldn't have even crossed my mind. I spent the better part of an hour, frozen in bed, trying - through sheer willpower - to make my heartrate go down. It was only after countless minutes of deep breathing, meditative chanting, individual muscle relaxtion techniques, and stern talking to, that I realized both of my cats were lying perfectly still, peacefully asleep tucked in the crook of my arm and curled in my lap.
Now, my cats are by no means watchdogs, but if someone were in my house, they would most likely run up to them and start yammering up a storm, meowing, "You're here to FEED us?"
Not a whisker moved.
Even armed with this new and rock-solid knowledge, it still took probably another hour to calm down enough to fall asleep - just in time for my 5:30 am alarm.
Not only was I tired, but I was also plagued by a strange digestve pattern. I've actually noticed this happens frequently when I have a restless night's sleep. Maybe because my metabolism stays high when I'm awake for long period (especially with, ahem, a needlessly increased heartrate)? At any rate, I probably ate more than I normally would on a running day because I woke up absolutely STARVING.
Come to think of it, it's practically a miracle I even got out at all.
Miles 106-109: 37 and a half minutes truding along. Some day are just going to be like that.
No comments:
Post a Comment