A Train Wreck.

That's sort of what I feel like. Like I've been in a train wreck. I didn't want to wake up even a little bit today. When I woke up, I had to talk myself into moving. I was quite sorry that I did. I'm fairly certain this is what Tiger Woods felt like the day after his wife beat the crap out of him.

I sort of rolled myself out of bed, and might have shed a tear or two. Then I realized that Jess and I were supposed to go walking this morning, and I cried even more. Tom was already gone, so my mind began fashioning ways to get Carson to climb out of his crib on his own, cause I certainly wasn't going to lift him!! I made it downstairs and had some water, and started moving around a bit.

The more I moved, the looser my muscles became. By the time the thirty pound lead weight Carson woke up, I was able to get him out of the crib with minimal shrieking. It's now 11:45, and I'm actually less sore today than I was after Day 1. Don't get me wrong... every muscle hurts (except my thighs... what's with that?), but I can still function. I'd really love to just lay on the couch under a blanket today, though.

I am simultaneously excited and dreading Monday. I'd be happy to never ever run again. Ever.