The day started with uncomfortable shoes and a number on the scale that I wasn’t happy with.
Then, an hour-long work meeting where disgruntled and disillusioned employees lobbed questions at a boss they aren’t sure they can trust to tell them the truth.
This was followed by nine hours of slouching morosely at my desk (I’m working on improving both my posture and my attitude), longing to be out in the sunshine.
When I arrived home, I put on some running clothes I haven’t worn in ages (and later remembered why those are mowing-the-lawn shorts and not running shorts) and went down to the park (where I was nearly run over by a seven-year-old swerving uncontrollably on her pink bike), with tight hamstrings and fatigued quads, for what was meant to be four miles. But instead of a one mile warm-up, two miles of speedwork, and a mile cool-down, I ran a mile warm-up, a mile and a half of speedwork and hill repeats, and a half mile cool-down. My legs felt heavy. My left foot was sore. My discouragement grew.
But this time last year, I was struggling with bunion pain that was far more persistent than this one day of bad running.
And I know that now, I’m on the upswing, even if this day didn’t feel like it.