Pleasantly Demented

January 26, 2012

Woke up at 6:00 this morning.  No.  Let me rephrase.  I woke up at 3:45 this morning.  Ate a banana.  Emailed a friend.  Went back to sleep.  Then I woke up at 6:00.  Burned a candle.  Did yoga in the dark.  Watched the sun rise.

It was quiet.  And still.

I haven't run in 5 days.  I'm stretching, warrior posing, bridge posing, dog and cobra and binding.  Hopped on the elliptical a few times, not too hard.  Heating pad.  Bag of frozen peas.  Tons of Motrin.  The restraint I am showing surprises even me.  It's not in my nature to show restraint.  My nature demands that I fling the front door open and tear down the driveway barefoot in my underwear and a tank top and run until my feet bleed.

That's my nature.

It's taken a lot of maturity and restraint for me to nurse this funky, rebelling hamstring properly.

It's a testament to how badly I must run.  The idea of not being able to do it anymore is unacceptable. 

But now I am exhausted.  Work in an hour.  Boys have their driver's ed.  Yes.  STILL.  I know, right?

I need sleep.

You know what I want to buy?  A punching bag.  That would be some seriously unmitigated fun.  A punching bag.  Yes.  I think I will buy one.

Jake followed me around Wal-Mart this afternoon hollering, "No momma, please!  Don't hit me again! I promise I'll be a good boy, just please don't beat me no more, momma!"

That reminds me.

I need to go beat that kid.