*Warning: Extra potty m0uth insinuation today… I’m having a spendiferously craptastical morning and it helps to type out those symbols, while in my head, I am channeling a fish wife*
Mommy needs a run today, and dammit I am going whether my *$%& is still wet from my last run. Case in point, I went to pack my running gloves this morning, and they are still damp.
Sunday morning was an 11k run in the rain with Run Club. My calf started to act up at the 8.5k mark, just like normal, so the second half of that run was thus: Run for a bit, then swear, then walk for a bit, feel better, try to run some more, then swear more, then walk. I, as usual, felt like a wimp for not being able to run continuous, but I am glad I didn’t. My calf may have been a tad sore, but there was no pulsing, angry muscles at the end. Progress.
To give you an idea on why my gloves are still damp, let me tell you about Sunday. When I got back to my car at the end of the run, I literally wrang out my pink skullcap onto the pavement, sending a cascade of nasty, sweat-infused, rainwater into the pavement. I was that wet. Through to the BONE, folks. Nothing except my feet were dry.
It was a really good run (in the end) despite the puddles (have I mentioned I love my Gore-Tex shoes?) the rain, and the icy spots, on approximately 2 hours of solid sleep the night before.
I really want my little girl to get a bit older so she isn’t so much of a petrie dish, bringing home every cold virus in the city. Ahhh, the life of a day care toddler. A perpetual runny nose and coughing at night.Which means sleepus interruptus for Mommy and Daddy. Also perpetual (or at least feels that way).
Sunday night was no better, my wonderful baby girl rolled between my husband and I, refusing to sleep in her own bed. All of us were rather cranky on Monday morning (which is hilarity if you could watch us, I swear we are sitcom material). So last night, I went to bed early, determined to catch up and have some energy recharge. 9:30 early. For a night owl, this is unheard of, yo, and let me tell you, my husband had his “shocked bear” face on when I told him. I gave up Castle for sleep. That is big, folks. BIG.
*Nathan Fillion, I did PVR it, please don’t fret. You are still my TV boyfriend. *
I was happy to get into bed, snuggle under the covers, when the body aches and restless hit. My brain turned on and I was thinking about everything under the sun (or moon as the case may be). It took me forever to get comfortable and drift off. I did get a few hours, and then… Cue three am and my son waking up, my daughter still blissfully asleep in in her own bed.
♪ I am slowly going crazy, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6… Switch! ♪
#$%&. Give Mommy a break, will ya? Do you have some sort of pact? If one is sleeping well, the other isn’t? I bet they are wearing me down so that I’ll say yes to making more cookies. Or buy a pony… Yeah, that’s it… *narrows eyes*
At five, I finally stumbled back into my own bed, not long before my husband got out of bed to go to the box for his morning
tortureworkout. I lay in bed, praying I could go back to sleep, but alas, the moment he closed the front door, all I heard from my daughter’s room was “DADDDDDDDDYYYYYYYYY! WAAAAAHHHHHH!”
So even though I am still a tad stiff from Sunday, some of my running stuff is still damp, and I feel like I’ve been pulled through a knothole backwards by a team of angry horses, I am going running today. Maybe not far, or very fast, but dammit, I am going.
As I already said, Mommy #$%*ing needs it.