Saturday Morning

Why is running on a treadmill so horrific for me? I honestly think treadmill pace/mile times are off. G-tree and I have had this discussion before, but I think I’m running faster than the treadmill shows. How, you ask? Well, my breathing is a good indicator. I sort of know when I’m huffing and puffing, and it seems every time I’m on a treadmill and just want to jog for 30 minutes, I’m gasping to keep up with the belt. Then I look at the screen and curse treadmill makers everywhere for displaying those pace/mile times anyway. I already think I’m slow, but I don’t need a treadmill displaying some snail’s pace in my face to let me know that I’m ultra-slow.

Enough of that. I can say that I’m very proud of myself for waking up at 6am while in Ft. Worth for a conference and going down to the hotel gym to run. The treadmill did have a new feature for me; it showed a birds-eye view either a track, hill, or 5K route while I ran.

I was away from my family for about 3 days for the first time ever. I have never been away from all three of my boys at the same time. I think they missed me more than I missed them. I did miss them, but the conference was busy, and I had no idle time to really pine away.

For years and years, almost every night I turn my lamp off beside my bed after reading. If I’m not terribly tired, I will think to myself, “One day I won’t turn this lamp off.” Some nights, I will think, “One day, I won’t be laying in this bed, falling asleep.” I’m not talking about moving. I’m not talking about getting a new lamp or bed. It is the blight I was born for.

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