Dragging Butt

Dragging Butt!

There are very few cartoons that can characterize my mood and motivation as much as this one did.  That is me.  That is my butt.  That is what I have felt like for three weeks now.  And for some reason I cannot reattach it and get it in gear.

As of right now, I have zero motivation for this marathon in February.  And I am pulling out all the tricks that I can think of.  My “Did You Earn It?” jar is freshly full of Reese’s Peanut Butter Trees.  I spent an afternoon about a week or so ago morphing a killer workout plan to get me in top shape.  I have visualized most of the marathon course in New Orleans as well as the parts where I pass Ryan Hall (okay, not the last part.)  I have even gotten some of my good friends involved who are trying to push me along.  But to no avail.

I did a 6 mile run on the morning of Christmas Eve.  It was supposed to be 2 mile warm up, 3 mile tempo, 1 mile cool down.  After my warm up, I let out a quiet “Bleh” and kept the same pace.  It ended up being a 3 mile warm up with a 3 mile cool down.  What the heck?  It was Christmas Eve and I had things to do.

The things I had to do was go from Christmas party to another for about 36 straight hours ending on Friday night.  And Friday night was the only time I really drank and that killed about 73 bottles of red wine.  By the time I rolled out of bed on Saturday and cleared the cobwebs, I was in no mood or shape to run.  And with my current state of Bleh, that was fine by me.  That is until about noon when I walked in the bathroom and my beautiful wife, Christine, had her running clothes on.  Well crap.

Her motivation level for this marathon is similar to mine.  But somehow, she found the will power to at least get her running clothes on.  I guess the least I could do was keep her company in her misery.  I started running and it actually helped to clear my mind.  She ended up running about 13 miles and I finished with 15 miles.  What little energy I had left was gone though.  And the rest of the evening was slugville.

As I prepared to take my shower, I noticed blood on my right foot.  Evidently the toenail on my middle toe got pulled up some and it bled everywhere.  I would take a picture of that foot, but right now it is just downright gross.  I guess it is just trying to get some attention after all the babying I did to my left leg for the past 3 months.

Now I am winding down from the long weekend and getting ready to go back to work tomorrow.  And I imagine I have a run workout scheduled for tomorrow night.  I am not going to look at it now because I don’t want to know about it.  Whatever it is I am sure it will hurt, I will whine about it, and either I will do it or not.  And thinking like that sucks.

I guess both ends of the candle have finally reached the middle.

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