Today I was very excited for at least a 13 miler tonight. It had been a shitty day as most Sunday's are and just wanted to get outside and breath a bit. Tomorrow I was really looking forward to going to the Wyre and running with my son which won't happen because my daughter has a mild temperature. Hopeful that run can happen Tuesday. With family arriving Wednesday this week is done for running.
Who knows what will happen in Scotland, heading up this next week to Arran. The two times I've been there I've been sick and injured so I'm assuming that will happen again.
Things were going so well. I even figured out a sweet race schedule for the rest of the year, Ultra Tour of Snowdonia, 58 miles in Wales (August) and that would set me up for Cotswold Century, 100 miles in September.
I don't know what to feel when I can't run. I guess soon when we move house I will have my treadmill back which I can pound in anger in the garage.
So off I go to finish the chores I do every night. I think I'll meditate and try to focus on the positives of recovery.
You get faster by recovering, not by doing more. I'll dwell on that.
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