I wanted to run tonight about as much as I want to be squeezed to death by a boa constrictor. Come to think of it, I might have taken the snake tonight if given the choice. That's how tired I was. Halfway through the season finale of Hell's Kitchen, I talked myself into going to the gym and watching the rest of the show while I ran 4 miles on the treadmill.
I started my run later than yesterday so my dinner had more time to digest. It was nice to not have to deal with side stitches while I ran, but starting later meant I wasn't done running until after 10 PM. Not to sound like a little old lady, but that is my usual bedtime. I made it through the 4 miles, but I was running on sheer willpower towards the end.
I'm supposed to run another 3 miles tomorrow, but I also have to run a few errands after work. Hopefully I'll be bursting with enthusiasm (and energy) with the weekend upon me, but I'm not holding my breath. I'm guessing tomorrow's run will be another slog. But I could be wrong. Bring it on Friday. I'm ready for you.