This past week has been a tough one. Baby O. has decided to refuse to sleep at night. This is in addition to he fact that he is a terrible napper. Some have said that he might be teething which is entirely possible but who knows. He’s a social baby who just wants to be where the action is. This has caused his poor mama (that would be me) to lose some incredibly valuable sleep time. By Friday, I was done. Like, stick a fork in me d-o-n-e. I was so overtired that my entire body was throbbing, I felt sick to my stomach and I could barely function. In other words, I didn’t finish my scheduled runs for the week, didn’t keep up with #RWRunStreak and didn’t do much of anything aside from ensure that my kids were fed, breathing, and clean(ish).
And I didn’t much care.
That’s right. No regrets. No “I wish I had done that run, kept that streak, lifted those weights”. All I cared about was getting some sleep. Any sleep would have done me just peachy.
Here’s why I didn’t regret not keeping with my schedule. Working out and pushing when you’re at your limits for exhaustion is not smart. In fact, it’s pretty dumb. And yes, I am allowed to say that because this is experience talking. Any time I have pushed when my body had no push at all in it, I’ve ended up ridiculously sick or ridiculously injured and sidelined for weeks, if not months. I can’t afford to be benched for any length of time. Not only do I have fitness goals to achieve, but I also have kids to care for. Wearing myself to the breaking point and beyond not only means I could get sick/injured, it also means I can’t do things with my kids either.
I will be back to my training plan as soon as I can catch up on sleep (is there a way to bribe a nearly 4 month old to sleep?), which will hopefully be this week.
In the meantime…someone pass me some dang coffee!