Woe

I’ve been sitting here retyping the post I was about to put up, because it was setting off my bullshit meter. It was all “I don’t know why my weight loss is stalled lately!” when the hard truth is that I’ve been eating anything I want (though watching portions) and even drinking a bit. I’ve been out of town for 10 days, visiting with writer friends (who tend to drink, to put it bluntly) and staying at a swanky hotel that nevertheless had only one working treadmill. Also, I only ran twice the whole time, mainly because I could not suffer through the terrible boringness of treadmill running, and I was in an urban area that was not safe to run in after dark (when the day’s activities were done), and also because I am a lazy arse who WILL NOT get up early to run.

Anyway, that’s the truth and I’m suffering for it this week. I am running an 8k this weekend with hardly any miles under my belt for the past two weeks. It doesn’t bode well, I know, and I’m walking the line now between wanting to up my miles to practice and wondering when I should rest. As it stands I think I’m going to do 4 miles tonight, 3 tomorrow night, 4 on Thursday and then rest Friday. Is that too much? Not enough? :sigh: I feel confident that I’ll be able to slog through the actual race – there’s that race day adrenaline for one thing – and since it’s my first I am not aiming for a particular time, but I don’t want to feel like I’m going to die either and that’s what worries me.

I drive myself crazy when I do things like this to myself. I can be organized 95% of the time, but that other 5% lets me down *right* when things start to come together.