Some days life tries to get in the way of running. Today was one of those days. I came home, said hello to the tribe, changed clothes and started locking up. Then it occurred to me I was missing one cat. My favorite cat, Bodie, was missing.
(I know it's horrible to have favorites, but I do. It's one of the reasons I never had a second child. I knew I'd like one more than the other.)
The whole tribe looked for him. We looked everywhere. He could not be found. Finally everyone else left and I cried. I couldn't leave without knowing he was ok. Finally, I heard a Bodie sound. I managed to track him down. He'd somehow found his way into my dresser and behind a drawer. How he got his fat body behind that drawer, I can not imagine. Anyway, I broke the drawer and got him out. Bodie rescued, finally time to run. I didn't want to, but I headed out.
I got to the park and within 30 seconds of running I had a wicked pain in my belly. What the hell? Seriously? I kept running. Screw you, you thing that's trying to keep me from running, I thought to myself.  I ran some more and I hurt some more. I walked and then I ran again and little by little the pain left, but my mind still wasn't in the groove. It was just one of those days. I kept doubting my ability to ever run a half, but that doubt would then fuel me to keep going. I felt so contrary with myself...it was weird. Like I needed the cynicism to provoke my inspiration. Finally, and I credit AC/DC on the mp3 player, I found the groove and I finished my 4 miles. Yeah, only 4 tonight but that means I only have 9 to go :)
A little PS-- I've found tempo in music is irrelevant for me when running. What matters most is the lyrics and the mood of the song. It would seem I can regulate my breathing much better when I sing along to what's playing. This amuses me. I wonder how many people heard me singing "You Shook Me All Night Long" this evening?
And in closing, let me show you the beastie that caused that upset this evening: