I love Mondays. My clinic doesn’t start until afternoon, so after Hubby pulls out of the driveway to drop the kids at school, I have a bit of personal time. This is, of course, assuming that Hubby isn’t traveling, no kids are sick, I’m not sick, and it’s not a holiday….
This morning, after the kids were buckled into their car seats, and all the bye-bye hugs and kisses were evenly distributed, I stood in the driveway for a moment, just one moment, to savor the prospect of a couple of free hours. I plugged my old-school sports headphones into my iPhone, and dialed up my cheesy workout mix: Latin dance, bubble-gum pop, expletive-filled rap, hits of the 80’s, a bit of bluegrass and a smidgen of country…
And I ran. I ran up the hill past the statelier old homes, past the park where the fireworks display will be, through town and over the train tracks, to this gorgeous jogging path.
Seagulls and butterflies, mild brine and sunshine, smiling folks with dogs… I ran and grooved and spaced out completely.
I spaced out so far, in fact, that on my way back, I somehow missed my turn off the path and over the tracks.
I didn’t realize my error until I was another three quarters of a mile up the path. I decided to keep going, and pick up the next bridge over the train tracks, rather than turn back. But, the way the roads are, I had an idea that this meant a longer run than I had planned for.
As it turned out, it was a much, MUCH longer run than I had planned for.
Five miles in, I realized that I would have to kick it up a notch in order to have time to shower, eat, and catch a train into the city before clinic. I started stressing…
So I ran. I ran way harder than I usually do.
It felt awesome!
My fitbit logged this run at 6.2 miles, baby. I haven’t run that far in awhile.
1. Monday morning exercise is a fantastic way to start the week off right.
2. Spacing out to the point of losing touch with reality is generally not a good thing, but sometimes, it is.