running through a funk
I ran 4.4 km today. Yep, I ran them. Really, really hard.
I got into a bit of an emotional funk today. I can’t tell the whole story, but a co-worker of mine is being very dishonest re: work and is showing a big complete lack of integrity. She is someone whom I would’ve defended wholeheartedly if I’d heard about this from someone else, and that just stings me. See, I have this really odd character flaw: generally, I believe people are good. I’m always quite surprised when they’re not. Hmmm.
Anyway … long story short … I left today and went for the hardest run I’ve ever ran. When my hubby got home, I was ready to run. (Read that: very quick pass-off of kids … ie. “They’re all breathing..”) Over the hills (eek) and on a path I’ve never ran on …. I just kept pushing it. My only semi-stop was to kick a really big pile of dirt. That felt fun, somehow, even though I got really dirty.
Running when angry is very therapeutic. Feeling like I couldn’t breathe afterwards, and trying to remember the early signs of cardiac arrest … hmmm … not so therapeutic…
