“Life I embrace you / I shall honor and disgrace you / Please forgive if I replace you / You see I’m going through some pain / But now I see clearly / And the dawn is coming nearly / And though I’m human and it’s early / I swear I’ll never forget again”
-Blues Traveler, “Optimistic Thought”
I wish I could say that Trenton Thunder baseball did not mess with my Saturday long run a second week in a row, but I have the willpower of a hypothetical someone named I.D. Idderson, so you can imagine how that went. Aggravating matters further, a postponement to Sunday was out of the question due to prior engagements, and the rest of Saturday was not looking so good, either. So I set a 5:15 am alarm on my cell phone, which happened to die while I was in the midst of sleeping off nine innings’ worth of beer and hot dogs.
Falling out of bed a few minutes past 6:00, I realized that the full ten miles was not in the cards, because I was hoping not to be the rate-limiting factor in the day’s activities – nobody’s fault but mine that I didn’t get up on time. Rather than bag it altogether – which really was looking like a great option at that point – I decided to modify my Ewing-Hopewell Death March, down to (what I thought would be) a reasonable eight miles; considerably less than what Hal Higdon ordered, but a galaxy better than my fat ass going back to bed for another hour.
I felt way better on this run that I deserved to and, thanks to my failing spatial skills, only pared about a half mile off of my scheduled ten. Which was great for the training schedule, but not so much for Saturday’s “life” schedule. I can’t wait until I need to get up at 3:30 on Saturday mornings to get in my long runs without ruining the rest of my and my family’s day. Just why am I doing this, again?!?
The good news is that my stunning lack of self-control Thunder baseball will not wreck a long weekend run for me until next April at the very earliest. The bad news is that I just know it will happen again someday…because I know me.