Ok, if you know me even a little bit, you've heard me curse mobile e-mail, especially on those nights when I'm really tired and trying to get to sleep before 10 but then get an e-mail about work that keeps me up thinking until 11. Well, that didn't happen last night, but guess who slept in again this morning anyway?
I was so sleepy when I got dressed that I ran out the door wearing a top that was way too tight (damnit . . . even though I've lost some weight, I'm still not back to the size of most of my clothing). I ran by Target (thank God they have a Starbux so I could get coffee too) and got a cheap comfy top. And it was too big, which means I had to go back at lunch and exchange it for something smaller.
It's Friday. Friday is as Friday Does.
Tonight I'm going for a short run followed by a power yoga class, although I could also do a bike-run brick. (Here's hoping time or nature doesn't stand in my way.) Tomorrow's plan is a either a swim-yoga combo or a brick, run-swim or bike-swim-bike (yeah, I know, it's really not a brick if it isn't a bike-run). Sunday morning is a ride out in Clermont . . . maybe followed by yoga. (We'll see how early I get out there and how good I feel.) Monday I rest and Tuesday . . . oh, Tuesday . . . I'm back to running with a 20% mileage reduction for 3 weeks.
Sitting at lunch, I was contemplating all of this: wrestling with my guilt, wondering if I'd be able to get moving again now that I've rested so much, flipping absentmindedly through my phone. I stumbled upon an old e-mail from my dad telling me he'd bought some of the pictures from my Oly, and I suddenly realized how proud my parents are that I am a triathlete. I thought about how they're also coming to see me run my first marathon in Philadelphia. That feeling of pride and satisfaction perked me up. It was like I'd just taken an espresso shot. At that moment, I realized that nothing is going to stop me. Not guilt, not injuries, not illnesses, not medical conditions. Team Meggan is no longer a one-woman show.
Ok, so maybe mobile e-mail is not the devil after all.