April 28 marks the anniversary of my first race since high school. I celebrated by going to watch my husband and his brother run the Gettysburg North-South Marathon.
Now, I’m exhausted. The race was pretty, but it was hard to keep three young kids entertained for about four hours and cheer everyone on.
After the 10th “Where are we?” or “Is daddy running today?” I was about ready to jump into the race myself for some peace and quiet.
When I did get to run, on Monday, my body was not happy. I couldn’t breath and my muscles were still sore from the trip.
Gu helped, but only so much. I had energy, but was too congested and physically tired for it to do any good.
Tomorrow is another day. Maybe the next run won’t be as bad.
Maybe the next trip won’t be as bad either. Things can’t be perfect all the time. That would take the magic out of everything.