It’s a wonder I actually got off my butt and laced up my running shoes yesterday. (For the first time since Monday.)
To be fair, I came down with a bad case of food poisoning on Monday night and spent the better part of the early morning hours hovering over the toilet. And then, all shaky and dehydrated on Tuesday, I forced myself to go to work. (It was a stark reminder of how easy I had it in Portland, when calling in sick was no biggie and meant I’d still get paid.) I really need the money (ya think? just how many times have I mentioned that here?), and I didn’t want to risk getting fired.
I still felt less than stellar on Wednesday, and though I was back to normal on Thursday, I didn’t make it out for a run.
So, yes, Friday. I ran. Slowly. As is the current state of affairs in Barcelona.
And not that far. (Again, typical.)
But at least I was out there. And I got to explore a new neighborhood! (After spending 5 weeks in L’Eixample, I’ve just moved to Gracía – pictures to come soon). It felt good and needed and just as cathartic as those over-dramatic blog posts.
I’m contemplating signing up for a race here because I need the motivation. Seems like my running sweet spot right now is 40 minutes, and I’d like to increase that to an hour or so, but I don’t see that happening unless I put some pressure on myself.
Also: strength training. Damn. That’s a foreign concept in my life right now. I miss it. I can tell I have less stamina, and my metabolism is slower. (And it’s not just because I’m eating chocolate croissants!) I need to find my way to an affordable weights class, or just start doing wall squats. Anything. (If you have a good, at-home strength training routine, please send it my way.)
Hopefully I’ll have some more exciting running-related posts to write soon. In the meantime, enjoy this picture from Costa Brava, where I’ve just spent the day in Tossa de Mar: