Muscle Memory

Sometimes I wish my muscles would just forget.

Forget how fast the last race, interval, mile, long run, was.
Forget that I used to do a heck of a lot more training.
Forget the word "just" in front of "half marathon training".

'Cause remembering just makes it all really no fun.

Makes me want to not race. (I can't beat my old times. I don't know if I can (more like want to) hurt for that long anymore.)

Makes me wonder if the fire will ever come back. (Where the heck did it go?)

Did pushing, all the time, striving for some goal, some time, some AG finish push the point of all this so far away that I can't see it anymore?

(Point being. THIS IS FUN.)

I love to run (and bikeandswim).

It makes me feel good. Nope, it makes me feel GREAT. Alive. Happy. Relaxed. Makes me feel like me. Like my best me.

A solo, early fall, morning run while both girls were in school had me remembering today.

A good muscle memory. Time to make some more...

Don't mess with Ella

An admittedly weak update after a long break. Here's the gist.

Kindergarten started. My heart broke. I missed E. She missed me. And cried in the bathroom about it, daily, for a few weeks (her, not me. I didn't attempt to hide my tears). Settling in now...everyone. She likes school, which is great.

Alice is breathing well again after an ER trip last night. Damn croup. She's all 'roided up like a guido from Jersey Shore and breathing much easier now. Longest 8 miles to that hospital, ever.

That's all I've got after 4 hours of sleep. On the floor of A's room. Oof.