Wednesday, March 28, 2012


Edvard Munch, The Scream
I am a master at habit. I have a routine down for days, weeks, and months. Not so much for years, unless you count staying with my parents for a week at Christmas and July 4th. I wake up at roughly the same time every day, arrive at work at 8-8:30, leave around 4:30 and then do various things around my house. Every Saturday I do a long run, shower, go to the market and do all my shopping. Every Sunday I do all my cooking for the week. I eat the same thing for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for a week. Everything has a place at my house and everything is in their place. I live by my planner. If I lost it my life would go to hell in a hand basket.

And I am currently in HELL!! My life has descended into anarchy and chaos. For the past couple of weeks I never know what I'm going to be eating. If I'm going to get my run in. I have not been swimming for at least 3 weeks. My house is a disaster area. Nothing is where it's supposed to be! I've only ridden my bike twice since I've been sick.

This slow downward spiral began with the cold. Two weekends out of town did not help. My mother wonders why I can't come home for Easter. The answer, because I will die a little more inside if I do not get this train back on the tracks. A trip home will only derail it more.

I did not run Monday. Why? Because I was still recovering from the weekend.
I did nothing yesterday. Why? Because I am lazy.
I have not done my run today. Why? Because it would have been on the treadmill, for which I need my computer and and auxiliary jack hooked up to my speakers, to watch Dexter. The jack was in my car, from the drive to Cinci (which I never used) and I was to lazy to go get it. Mind you, I was fully clothed and ready for the run. But I just crawled back into bed for an hour. I'm still hopeful I'll run after work. 

I can be flexible. But that's for an evening or just moving the long run from Saturday to Sunday. I can not be flexible for months at a time. This ends now. I need to regain control!
My aviator glasses. The Blue Angles are the epitome of control and precision.

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