My legs still aren't right. My stomach isn't either. Nor are my lats...or my breathing...or my food consumption or sleep or thoughts or motivation.
I travelled back from Cali On Tuesday. I arrived home just after midnight and after spending all day on airplanes and in airports, I absolutely had to shower. It was like heaven sleeping with my little munchkin, Clubber. She cuddled so tight to me.
awoke a little groggy on Wednesday and headed to work...where I got chewed out for leaving confidential information on my desk before I left. I didn't even have an excuse. Except that my head was a clusterfuck the day I left the office for the last time. And I'd intended to be back on Monday. But Monday came and I called in sick. I didn't bother explaining to my boss that the guy I was dating is a total psychopath and that I was suffering from shock when I left...and that I'm still grieving the loss of something and someone that never existed. Head up. And back to work.
And after work, I went for a run. My legs are still heavy and tight. Four miles and I was done. But it felt good to sweat, even if just a little.
I was awake until almost 11pm, which is about two hours post normal bedtime. I'm still adjusting back to EST.
My alarm sounded at 5:30 and I'd never felt so grateful that it just so happens to be the week the pool is scheduled for routine maintenace and is closed where I swim Masters. Instead, I dragged my ass out to the 20 meter pool at Urban. It took a full 1000 before I even started to feel comfortable. My breathing isn't right. My stroke feels off.
This too shall pass. The legs will come around. The stroke will come back. Recovery will occur.
Tom just apologized for the uncertainty regarding the time frame for our long run this weekend. LOL. Life is pretty uncertain right now...and I'm pretty OK not knowing whether the run will be at 8am or 9:30am on Saturday morning. I'm even OK not knowing where I'll be living this summer. I'm OK just floating along, not fighting life, seeing where it might just take me.