No rest day today.

The plan was to have one to try and shake the last of all these things that have been plaguing me, so that I could start the week afresh.

Didn’t work out that way. At about 6pm found myself on the couch completely overrun with guilt at not doing anything. Not really sure why because I ate clean all day. Yep, I really did. Note I said clean and not paleo. One step at a time here, peeps… Spent about ten seconds tossing up between a wod or a run but decided on the run. The goal this week is to do crossfit Monday, Wednesday, Friday. I didn’t want to do anything that might aggravate my shoulder in the meantime as the next cortisone injection is forever away…

Thought I’d just do an easy 5km or a half hour. Was just plodding along at a steady pace - it’s Sunday afterall. Didn’t see the point in setting the world on fire. Got to close to thirty though and I knew it wasn’t enough. Set a new goal of forty, got close, forty-five, settled on fifty.

Fifty minutes of nice, steady-pace running. It’s such an unusual thing for me to do these days. I don’t know what it was, perhaps that I was in the right mindset, or that I had much more chilled out music playing than normal. Maybe it was just because it’s Sunday night and the world was dark and quiet. It may have also been that it’s Sunday night in the ghetto and the high I was experiencing had more to do with what was being smoked every around me than anything to do with running… Whatever it was, the fifty minutes passed so easily. There were no mind games to keep going, no negative self-talk, nothing at all. Just a nice, steady pace and the calming thought that I would reach my goal easily. The only slight problem was a little tenderness in my knees. Not really surprised as I think that’s the first time I’ve hit that kind of distance in the Nike Free’s in about six months.

The last five minutes did start to hurt and I’m glad. It wouldn’t be feeling like an accomplishment if I’d gotten home and thought I could do another twenty on the end. So while I say it was steady, it was steady for that distance. Was certainly moving faster than my half-marathon pace.

Running. Some times it’s the best thing in the world for blocking everything out and just putting a smile on your face. Happy days.

Cafe. Writing. Doing my thang.

There’s a lady sitting near me on a laptop (no, she’s not physically on the laptop. I meant to say she’s sitting near me and using a laptop. Oh, you know what I meant) and typing furiously.

Keep glancing over at her as I’m sure I’ve met her somewhere before.

It took an hour but I worked it out. She could pass as Margaret Thatcher’s twin. Given that Margaret Thatcher didn’t have a twin and she herself has indeed passed on, I’m going to assume that I actually don’t know this woman and just continue what I’m doing… Am suddenly very grateful I didn’t go and say hello to her. Like that time I was in Sydney airport and literally walked into Brian McFadden (that dude from that boy group. He also dated Delta Goodrem. I can’t remember what they’re called. Were they Irish?). I recognised his face but couldn’t work out where I knew him from. Started chatting so as not to be rude and then realised mid-sentence who it was and that I had in fact never met him before and I looked like some sort of star struck groupie rather than the girl who bumped into someone she knew at the airport and was just being polite.

Oh dear.

Carry on.