Gosh, this month is flying by and I can’t even say i’m glad about it because there’s so much damn STUFF to do.
So yesterday I texted RB to see if she was going to run. She replied back that she wouldn’t be running until Thursday, so I had a pretty tough decision to make. Do I go to the gym? Or stay at home, where it’s nice and warm and cozy and where there’s lots of food to eat? I had been in a hurry all day at work and it hadn’t changed much when I got home. It’s all a blur now, but I believe I just changed into my gym clothes as soon as I got home, fed the dog and just… left. It was like I was on autopilot or something. My money’s on the fact that I would have totally stayed at home if I would’ve set my ass on the couch even once.
Anyways, to the gym I went. Jumped up on a treadmill and warmed up. Looked around. No one interesting besides one guy that was irritating the shit outta me by constantly changing the music. It’s hard to count songs while you’re running when someone changes it when the song is already half over. Do you start the count over? Or what? Urgh. How menial am I being right now?
Started my run and was instantly hot. Instantly as in, within three minutes. Hot as in, BOILING OVER. Every single part of me felt like it was burning up. My pants started feeling like they were scratching the top layer of skin off my legs from thigh to ankle. How I ever managed to make it for 15 minutes of running i’ll never know. I’ll tell you one thing: i’ll never again wear those same pants to the gym, or the heavy, bulky blue t-shirt that I wore. Tanks all the way from now on.
I jumped off the treadmill after a few minutes of walking, desperate to get outside to the cool air. The drive home was uneventful, aside from the fact that my breathing was still quite labored. So I spent the rest of the evening half sleeping, half reading a book and eating pizza. I guess i’ll have to try again tonight.