Ran 21km for the first time since last September yesterday. My body is so broken down today that I am really, really hesitant to go downstairs for anything because that requires coming back up. And the steps to get to my office aren’t even that steep. Not helping? Terrible sleep. I was so tired, but I woke up at 2am, then again around 4, and a few times again before giving up around 7:30am. (I didn’t have to be at work particularly early today, so this was annoying. Keep in mind my working hours are generally 10:30-6:30ish.)
Sudafed or anxiety? Who can say.
It was a good run, though. Breaking patterns, I left at 5:30pm, instead of trying to run in the morning. Advantages aplenty, as the sun was already getting low, there were very few cyclists clogging up the pathways, and I got some very nice sunsetty views along the river. It also helped that it was only about 14ºC, so my North Sea blood didn’t boil. But man, I am tired. The Army Run is thirteen days away, so it’s good that I can do the distance in not-my-worst-time (probably), but, how the why the fuck didn’t I think this was a good idea again? As a wise woman said, in an entirely different context, hips don’t lie and mine are yelling out in achy agony.
For the first time ever, I am wearing skinny jeans, which is unusual enough given that I was terrified to try them for, well, pretty my whole life, tucked into boots. At first, I felt like I should be out riding horses, but because of the jeans (which are bright blue) matching elements of my pullover, I look more like an extra in a crowd scene in a Star Trek movie wearing some kind of casual-yet-official Starfleet garb. Who did some horseback riding, possibly, since I have just noticed I got hummus on my trousers that could be mistaken for dried-on mud.
The Knitting Virus has struck again, but with the added benefit of not being able to settle to one project. I should probably start planning Christmas presents instead of making 1/10th of a scarf before deciding to make a pair of mittens, before getting fed up and undoing the lot.
In other textile art news, here I am modelling my first completed crocheted hat. I’m not sure I’m a beret person, even when feigning a snooty French attitude and with eyebags that rival Serge Gainsbourg’s.