I was up for two hours last night and not because of the baby. I was up because I was worried (about what you ask? Nathan's pooping. Or lack thereof. Seriously.)
So, when Evan woke up this morning at 6:30, dang, I was tired! But I realized the kid went to bed around 9, so 9 and a half hours without eating for him is amazing and I should not complain a bit.
But then after that I laid back down, and started talking to myself in my head how I should not run this morning. I had a lot of really good reasons. I am really good at convincing myself of things. I thought of how tired I was, how my feet have been sore, how I needed to eat something first and didn't feel like eating..and then when I got up Evan was wide awake, so I thought for sure I shouldn't go because he was awake and he could start crying at any minute.
I knew I needed to go. The more I tried to convince myself not to the more I knew I had. I ran a mile in 10 minutes, 14 seconds on Monday....today, I ran it in 10 minutes 4 seconds.
It really hurt. Bad. Around seven minutes in, I seriously thought I was not going to be able to catch my breath. Then I was thinking how the people on biggest loser can run faster than me, so I kept going. And I did it. But I seriously hate running. I just do it because it's a quick aerobic way to exercise.
Once I cut off those 4 seconds, I am going for distance, not time for awhile. I want to do two miles. And then I will go back down for speed I think.
I wish I got those endorphins other people got when they run. I only get them when I stop. Maybe I won't hate running anymore when it stops hurting so much....