Today was another rare day off. I had a 12-miler in the morning, followed immediately by several hours of helping some good friends (former Ragnar teammates, in fact) move from their current apartment to a swank new place.
It was only when I got home that the reality of how completely exhausted I was began to seep in.
I’d had a really terrible run in the morning. As in, borderline didn’t-accomplish-anything. It felt a lot like Philly, where I was clearly running on empty from the start and no amount of Gu, water, music, or interesting courses was going to help me find a rhythm. By the end, I was angry, upset, and beating myself up for reasons that make no sense at all, except in the context of teetering on the edge of burnout.
So that evening, I treated myself to a delicious hamburger, fries, and bourbon caramel milkshake dinner at the local BRGR.
10 more days.