Winter

It’s amazing what a new pair of shoes and a ten mile run will do for one’s outlook. Yesterday, I was flying high on the residual endorphins from a ridiculously long run (and my triumph of willpower yesterday, see previous blog), and I had a new pair of shoes to wear to work. What more could a girl want?

Last night, when I got up to pee at 2:00 am, I realized that my heel was sore. Plantar fasciitis is not fun for a runner, so I figured I would rest it this morning and sleep in a bit. I slept very well, which is unusual. I think it is because I decided not to spring out of bed at the crack of 5:45. I sleep better when my schedule is less “tight” in the morning. Otherwise, I am looking at the clock every half hour to see how much longer I can stay in bed.

In any case, I was well-rested but groggy this morning. As the fog lifted, I still felt like I had a little cloud over my head. The kids were irritating, and although it was typical behaviour for them, it grated just a little more than usual. I dragged myself to the bus, hoping against hope that there would be no one I knew so I could read my book (no such luck). I felt unsettled and antsy.

Later in the day, I still feel anxious and irritable. I think, I assume, it has to do with not running this morning. Maybe I am addicted to those endorphins, and I’m all jittery, just like a drug addict, because I didn’t get my fix today. If so, I need to re-evaluate my running goals and strategies… if I want to keep my joints useful and painless into my twilight years (too late), I should either run fewer miles or fewer minutes. In any case, I think my marathon career is limited. Just another two half marathons this year, then maybe I’ll retire. I think I’ll have to wean myself off, though… what if I can’t get rid of the DTs?

Of course, my mood could have something to do with the fact that it is still very bloody cold out, and the long, long nights (which are getting noticeably shorter, but it’s still depressingly dark). I am also grumbling about my vacation planning appointment this week… I am fifth from the bottom of the list for choosing vacation, which means I will have time off in October and April, yipee. Extremely useful, not. To top it all off, I watched Ladder 49 the other night, which was wonderful, until the end. It made me want to be a firefighter, or something dramatic and useful. I want to love my job that much, and lately, around here, it has been a little more depressing than usual.

When I am in a disrupted, unsettled mood like this, I feel like I want change. I want something exciting to happen. Usually, the feeling is hormone related, but not always. At times like these, I often colour my hair or rearrange the furniture or go shopping. None of these options appeal right now. I feel like I am stuck under one of those lead aprons they put on you when you are having an x-ray. Just heavy enough to make moving not worth the effort.

So, I am looking for some excitement. Nothing unsafe or even terribly risky, not dramatic or disruptive, just something to break the monotony, something to talk about. The routine is a bit mind-numbing after a while. Wow, I really am in need of some sun. Maybe I should have spent money on a trip south, a little photo-therapy, rather than my kitchen. Maybe I should head to bed early and chalk it up to fatigue, and worry about it tomorrow. Or maybe I should just go for a run. Cheaper than airfare. Hey, medicare will pay for my new knees, won’t they?

Advertisements

About therapeuticrambling

I am a wife, a mom, a nurse, a writer. I enjoy laughing.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s