From the Frontlines of Fatigue

I ran 24K today (14 or so miles). I was only going to go 10K but old habits die hard. My usual route is an out and back, and honestly, I felt pretty good. So when I got to where I had intended to turn back I just kept going. I kept thinking about Scooter questioning me about my base this week. Base? You want base? I'll show the world some base. But I am still a little tired from last Sunday's race and I can tell I'm either fighting off a cold or an allergy attack. One nostril is draining like a leaky faucet.

I got home in two hours and twenty minutes and died harder than old habits. Talk about crash and burn. Waves of fatigue washed over me. Exhaustion, pure and simple. I had to force myself, yes, ME! of all people, to eat some carbs and protein after the run. Choked down a can of tuna, some sprouted wholewheat toast and some vegetarian chile. Gaaaaag! Then stumbled to bed.

All I wanted to do was sleep. So I napped for an hour in the midst of a beautiful sunny day. Put off doing laundry. Screw it. I'll find something to wear tomorrow that brings out the, I don't know what, in my eyes... Besides, I got hit with the spring cleaning bug this week and cleaned up my apartment, top to bottom. Threw out a ton of old garbage and flotsam and jetsom that had been floating about my life, unused for decades. Tossed out boxes of stuff. I paid my nap dues. So I slept the sleep of the just. Or the just plain old tired. Or maybe the just old.

Gotta go blow my nose...