Get running stuff ready the night before = no fuss in the morning.
It’s simple math that every athlete and/or human being on the planet understands. You know, that “fail to plan, plan to fail” BS that’s so true it’s annoying.
Last night I failed at planning. After R and I caught up on the newest show, Public Morals, I sunk into my pillow and didn’t surface until my alarm this morning.
I had nothing ready. My shorts and top and sports bra and socks and shoes and headphones and keys were all in separate spots.
Drunk on sleep, I stumbled around my apartment for 15 minutes trying to find everything. My iPod was nowhere to be found, my headphones basket-weaved themselves together overnight and my Nike+ watch wasn’t charged.
SCREW IT! I yelled it out loud from the living room, threw on the crappiest shoes I could find, shoved my keys in a Nike sports bra that’s seen more races than I can remember, and finally hit the road.
Only three minutes late.
After all that I was mentally checked out. This run is gonna suck anyway, I thought.
The thing is, IT DIDN’T.
Yeah, it was still tough with my Dystonia. Yeah, I still walked most of the time. Yeah, I wished I were jamming to Jay-Z. But my seven-year-old Pumas and I had a blast.
I said “good morning” to the regulars and stopped to pet themostadorabledogomggg. Then I made a little more peace with the fact that my Dystonia is here for as long as it wants to be.
Fewer expectations = more fun.
That’s some more simple math for you.
Tomorrow I plan to hide my iPod, let my watch battery drain, and give those Pumas another run for their money.