The dog is lying at my feet sleeping. The kids are in YaYa’s room discovering the old toys that have been neglected for months. It’s a lazy Friday night. I am watching the minutes pass, and thinking about all of the things that I am not doing. It’s a countdown to lights out.
You would think with all of the time that I am not spending on running, I would have launched into the cleaning of the house, and organizing of the closets. Instead, I look around and think about how much better I do at keeping up when I have less time to do it in. Besides my foot hurts and, well, I just don’t feel like it.
I’m not completely worthless. I did get the kids picked up, fed them, and did the dishes. I even took YaYa to Kaiser to get a replacement cast shoe; he has worn a hole in the thing in only one week. I got an extra one in anticipation of another hole post trick-or-treating. The only problem with that theory is that *I* am taking YaYa out for trick-or-treating, and I can barely make it to the corner without wanting to head back. I’m thinking that I might have to give his crutches a go. And it just seems crazy to be so limited when less than a week ago I walked 13.1 miles.