Tuesdays are long days.
I always start Tuesdays out with my run, which is almost always what my coach Darren calls a "sustained" workout (short intervals done at a high heart rate, also known as speed work). Because I like to be home by 6:45 a.m. or so to help get the kids up and ready for school, and because when you factor in the warm-up, strides and stretching and cool-down that bracket the meat of these speed runs, I have to leave really early. Today that meant 5:15 a.m.
It was a beautiful morning. Since I'm forbidden to go to the track, I did the run at the ponds. I was expecting creepy darkness. But instead a nearly full moon shone down, illuminating the trees and the distant mountains, making it almost possible for me to read my Garmin screen without the light. I put in almost seven miles by the time I got back in the car and drove home. The sun wasn't yet over the horizon. I felt like a goddess.
Back home, the kids and Dan were already awake. We ate breakfast, packed snacks and gathered backpacks, found sweaters and sweatshirts and loaded everything and everyone into the car after Dan ran up the block and back with Will. We started doing this so Will could "train" for his school's little fundraising jog-a-thon, which was last Friday. I was happy that he wanted to keep doing the morning block run even though the event is now past. Usually I run with him, but today I was a little more tired than usual (Darren had warned me this week would be a hard one).
Dan and the kids left in good moods (Will's attitude is markedly improved when he runs up the block and back; like mother, like son). I went inside, showered and headed down to Boulder for my 9 a.m. Pilates class with Patty. Which felt really good after that run. Following the class, I drove across town to the benefits fair my employer puts on (it's time to re-enroll in our insurance and all that good stuff). I had a hearing test (which I passed, thank God) and a flu shot, but arrived too late for the chair massage.
Then, at noon, it was time to be at work. Tuesdays are my night shift. I'll be here until nine tonight (I'm typing this blog post on my dinner break). My kids will be long asleep when I get home. Dan will be awake, and I'll want to catch up with his day. If I'm lucky, I'll have my light out by 10:30 p.m., a full hour and a half later than the time I like to turn it out. Tomorrow morning the alarm will sound early again for my mid-week semi-long run (70 minutes this go-round). And tomorrow when I arrive at work at 9 a.m., the sleepiness will hit me.
Do other people have it tougher? Of course! I'm lucky to be part-time, with only 30 hours a week of work. On Thursday, one of my off days, I'll be able to take a nap, which for many of you (I know) is almost as luxurious as a massage.
So I'm not writing this to complain about Tuesdays. I'm writing because Tuesdays just prove the fact that any day that begins with a run is usually a good day, whether its waking hours are short or too long. Silvery pre-dawn moonlight just makes a day that much better.
