I find myself in a tableau of the Seven Deadly Sins. It’s a lot less graphic and dark than David Fincher’s movie but perhaps not less depressing.
My body has just kinda slumped and collapsed. It’s not pain but sheer exhaustion. I can’t seem to keep my eyes open and everything, from my toes to the tip of my hair follicles on my head feels like dead weight. Sloth is all around me.
And so I find myself stuffing my face without anything better to do. Gluttony rears its head and I greet it with a nod of the head… only to feel as if my head does not wish to go back upright and would oh so much prefer laying itself down on a pillow.
I could go on and name the lustful way I stalk a nap, the greed with which I I steal time adrift in semi-sleep rather than doing something more productive, the wrath I feel at my alarm clock that I keep setting telling myself, “well, gosh, it’s a power nap, right? Those are supposed to be good for me!” Ramblingly and incoherently, I could wac poetic of the envy I feel at others out and about running today, enjoying the day, doing something with their day. But I’m ashamed… so maybe pride is the one sin I haven’t yet breached.
Whatever the case, I’m just feeling kinda beaten down. If ever there was a a wasted day, it’s today. But maybe I needed to reset and recharge for a stronger week ahead of travel, marathons, and fun. Maybe this is my body saying, “Hey, suck it up buttercup — we need a day to crash and just wallow. You can have your energy and life back tomorrow but today? Today is a day of failure. Those happen now and again. It can’t all be sunshine and rainbows and happy fun time scenarios. So today sucks. So today you suck. Make it better tomorrow. For now, hit the snooze button and accept that this day is a wash.”
I hope my Oscar the Grouchian internal monologue is right. I hope this is a one-off day, I kept telling myself, “The ankle is a bit better, you’ve been eating WAY too much, just a short run today to see how things are going and to try and make up for the missteps of poor nutritional choices…” and then bargaining with myself to do it in an hour… in another half hour… later… sooner but later… much later… and then, well, not at all today.
Today’s a wash. I’m hitting snooze. I’ll run tomorrow. I hope. Because I can’t do this day again. Please do not let this be my Groundhog Day.