Yesterday I didn’t run. I had awoken very early, and then went to our local library’s book sale. After I came home, walked the dog, and had some lunch, I ended up taking a 2+ hour nap. C’est la vie!
I went running around 4.15 p.m. today. It was cloudy and 59 degrees F.
I walked for 4 minutes;
ran for 27 minutes;
then walked home for a total of 32 minutes.
Run time: 27 minutes
Walk time: 5 minutes
Somehow this morning I got roped into our church’s blood drive. Rather, I hadn’t intended on giving blood – I’m hypoglycemic, and I hadn’t had much for breakfast before going to church, so I was a little light headed. When I found out I couldn’t go running afterward, I apologized for wasting their time and left. The woman who was interviewing me said, “But you’ll be saving a life.” I tried to explain that running saves MY life. If I had gone running yesterday, I might have given blood. But running is the only thing that saves my sanity, especially since I don’t have a job and struggle with depression. Does anyone else feel this way?
Picture of the day (I’ve always loved forests!):