Bad Run Days

So, much like most of us wake up on certain days

and cannot seem to lay our hair properly

or pick out the right outfit,

runners have days where they just can't get a good run.

Well, at least this is the assumption I made after I unsuccessfully ran 7 miles.

I mean, I ran 10 miles this past weekend,

12 the weekend before that,

and I couldn't seem to get 7 done today?

Not even 5?

But 3?!

I can't even explain how this feels.

It's incredibly discouraging. 

First, the second guesses:

"But my first mile felt so good..."

"I ate an energy-filled lunch, didn't I?..."

Then, the guilt...

"I didn't drink enough water"

"It's my stupid shoes that I need to replace, but have no money for..."

"Is the bottle of wine I had for Valentine's day really that powerful?"
"Stupid Mardi Gras! Why am I not 18 anymore?!"

But the fact of the matter is,

there's probably not really an exact reason.

Can't a mother runner have an off day?

A day to just stop her run because her body is saying, "Pu-LEASE stop, mama!"

So I did.

I stopped. 

I felt bad about it, 

and immediately explained my reasoning to my neighbor who probably did not care.

But I needed to be heard. 

THIS ISN'T MY FAULT!

I swear I'm not a failure! 

I know, I know I didn't have time for yesterday's run either,

but c'mon! 

I'm only one woman,

and Whitney Houston died this week, for gourd's sake!

But you know what Whitney would have said?

She would have said,

"I'm every woman, it's all in me."
or she would have told me that crack is whack.

So now I am signing off and doing crunches and squats. 

Maybe even a few wall chair sit thingys.

Whit Whit would be so proud.