I think the only thing worse than talking yourself into running when you feel lousy is having that run interrupted over and over and over. I had stress dreams all night about my patella grinding off the side of my knee and becoming completely detached and only held on by the skin of my leg...it was not a restful night, plus the pile of grading that I'm dreading conjured up its own set of stress dreams.
Ran 2 miles and then stopped to give Luke his pacifier and restart Juliet's story (Luke had been crying for awhile--I don't know how to make that kid sleep a decent interval! So frustrating; it seems like no matter how soon I start running after he falls asleep he always wakes up). Ran another 1.1 miles and then brought furious Luke to hang out on my bed, ran another .9 miles and decided that the panicky fear and occasional leaps off the treadmill to rescue him from diving off my bed was not worth running another mile. Grumpy grumpy grumpy about that.
Oh...and I'm starting to give up on racing this year. Maybe the achiness in my knee will get better when I'm not sick, but right now it's pretty bad and it pops like mad and I honestly don't know how I would even run 10 miles on it this way. Plus Neil is INSANELY busy and I'm worried that this is not the time for our family to work around long Saturday runs. We'll see. At this point, I would rather Neil tackle the prelims marathon than I conquer the real marathon.
4 miles; 9ish/mile (hard to time with all the stopping)
Dang, that sucks. It took me over a year to get over my knee issues. I'm sure it won't take you that long. And that treadmill must be Luke's alarm clock.
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