My alarm clock said 4:56 am.
I laid there for 4 minutes trying to find the perfect excuse.
That incontestable reason to not get up and run.
No matter how hard I tried, or how many pathetic attempts I made.....nothing came to mind.
How can a person be so gung-ho about something for so long, only to wake up one day and not want to do it at all?
I turned the alarm off before it sounded, and plodded into the living room. I was up before Sam could slam her wet nose into my eye. That never happens.
I put them both outside. I put my running gear on. I put my cell phone in my running belt (learned my lesson the hard way not taking it, won't do that again). I walked out the door, and down the block.
I walked back to the house. I grabbed the water bottle I'd left lying on the kitchen counter. I walked out the door and down the block (take 2).
It's so darned dark in the am now....my running is slower, and I'm paying more attention to every step.
The first mile and a half, although noticeably slower, went without a hitch.
And then it hit.
Can the wall actually hit after only 1.5 stinkin' miles? :-)
I turned around and went home...right then. Today's run just wasn't in the cards. I got three of my four and a half scheduled miles done.
Wondering if I shouldn't go home and run the rest, just so that I can say I wasn't defeated??
The half marathon is coming up faster and faster. The 10K this weekend wore me out...how am I going to handle 13.1 miles?
I'm psyching myself out, aren't I?