Stiff, sore, unable to turn my head without wincing. Instead of waking up early this morning to run/bike/swim/yoga, I slept till after 7 and then lay in bed with an icepack on my upper spine. Guess I overdid it. And I'm beginning to understand that my physical limitations are not entirely to do with my effort and drive: they are intrinsic and a part of me, and fluctuate from day to day, and I need to become more attuned to my body's capacity and ability; it will find ways to protest when I force it to do more than it can manage. My body can't seem to manage two exercise sessions every day, which was my initial plan. One will have to be enough. And I think that it will be, and that I will appreciate the variety from day to day.
Race day is a different day altogether, when one asks the body to work to its extremes. Training days can't be like that.
And I want to be more healthy, not less.
This is what I wrote to a friend yesterday, reflecting on how my mind was perceiving the aches and pains and the necessity of changing my training plan: "Here's a funny thing: I ran 9k this morning, baked a batch of bread, got four loads of laundry on and off the line, wrote an interesting blog post, looked after the kids all day, fed them several homemade meals, directed them toward crafts and creative enterprises at various points in the day, toileted the youngest (an endless chore), arranged several necessary appointments, and still felt a sense of failure for not making it to the 90-minute evening yoga class. I think I have some inner spirit work to work do ..."
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