Two nights, in a row, I've slept really well.
I've eaten well and exercised and have not over-indulged.
Yet this morning, I had no energy.
No pop. All blah.
Lethargic I think is the word.
When 11:30a came around, the last thing I wanted to do was be a coal miner. The second to last thing I wanted to do was go for a run.
In my head, my own words circled 'round ... "You'll feel better after the run. Just get out there."
"Yeah, yeah. I know. But I really don't feel like it.", I whined to myself.
Then my other self got pretty snotty, and started to chide me, and then threatened to embarrass me in front of all you good blog-reading folks.
So I stood up, geared up, and headed out.
And as much as I hate to admit it, myself was right.
I ran. I ran really well. And I feel much, much better.
I'd started with the plan to just slog it out, but my pace was quick and steady. Despite my best intentions to have a crappy run, it turned out to be a great run.
[Aside: I ran my best race in college 90 seconds after throwing up a Big Mac.]
Point is, we need to listen to that part of ourselves that is striving to do good, to be better. That part that wants to feel great. Not the lethargic whining slug part that can justify feeling like crap.
Numbers: 4.3 miles on streets.