Something is… not quite right today. As I mentioned on my Facebook status, I saw multiple friends on my feed complaining of sleeplessness last night. Let me tell you: I have had insomnia exactly once in my lifetime. I was in undergrad but home for a weekend. I was in my old room, which was in the process of being cleared out to become something else, since my sister was in one of her “I’m finally leaving home” stages ( though she dd eventually come back and take over my old room.) I started looking through old notebooks and things from high school and watching TV, which almost always lulls me right to sleep. But the night wore on and I still couldn’t find sleep, no matter how hard I tired. I think I finally drifted off close to five AM and don’t remember much after that.
These days, if I get in bed and the TV is on or if Ash is playing Madden, I am out like a light. As I did last night, though woke around 12 when he got in bed, then shortly after, drifted off, only to be woken around one when Isaac was yelling. It seemed as if he had a bad dream (when do kids start that??) but after I’d gotten him back in bed, I simply lay there, listening. I have been known to wake at 3 or 4 from a bad dream then feel slightly paranoid, thinking of all the things I have to do, but it never lasts long. Well, last night, I just didn’t even feel tired, which is most definitely the worst.
This morning, I didn’t want to start grading papers so I watched the mid-season finale of Dr. Who (and yes, I did cry). I really do like that show but feel like I should probably go back and watch other seasons. To each his own, of course, but a lot of people hate this newest Doctor. I think he’s fun.
I’m having a hollow sort of pain on my left side, high, near my ribcage. it’s the same sort of pain that my appendix started off as, though clearly, there’s not much over there. As I poke and prod it, I think it’s just a muscle strain, probably from Bodyrock or running fast yesterday just to get that run over with. I am nearing my half at the end of this month, with absolutely no motivation to run faster or better; I have 12 this Saturday and dread it while at the same time, I harbor a tiny bit of bring it on. Running is funny like that: mostly it is a mental game, though physical in nature. It’s all about your mindstate when you first leave the house and turn on your watch, searching for some far-away satellite to track your pace. It’s about how tough you feel like being when the first 2-3 miles burn like hell and you question why you chose to do this in the first place. Miles 6-8 are always OK for me; I have gotten comfortable with that distance and that route and my halfway bathroom stop at the McDonalds, where I look down upon the people eating their greasy food then feel bad for mocking other peoples’ choices when I run back down the hill, picking up speed and gaining ground on home. I have to get my brain back in the game and stop making excuses for why I only ran 10.2 instead of the full 11. I have to be better.
There’s a dark cloud outside my window; rain is imminent. I want s very much to hide under blankets. And in about an hour, I think I may do just that. This time though, I will fall asleep just fine.