Despite yesterday’s difficult seventeen, I did what I was supposed to once I returned home.
The advice I’d been given was this; eat a good source of protein and carbs as soon as you get back, eat about every hour the rest of the day, drink lots of water, take some Advil and an epsom bath, and then elevate the legs for about an hour.
Surprisingly, it worked. I feel so much better today than I did last week when the fifteen mile run was exhilarating, but my negligence to follow recovery protocol left me in a lot of pain. Pain for days.
My biggest pain today was in the form of two four-year olds who decided it would be funny to put their cheese and crackers on the floor and then stomp them while wearing clogs. As they ran away from me (laughing), crumbs flew everywhere and the cheese was streaked and smooshed across the kitchen tile.
My heart rate monitor would have registered 220 (if I’d had it on) as I dragged little girls to their room. When it became clear that it was still two against one, I separated them into different rooms, which confirmed they were in big trouble! Up and down stairs went I making them stay where I’d put them. The trauma of being sent to your room; tear streaked faces peeking out of the doors making sure I was still near, slamming doors shut when they realized I was.
When it was over and all was calm, they were hungry and wanted lunch. I needed a nap.
At bed time, after another post dinner melt down/time out, Grace sighed, “I had a bad day.”
“Yes you did, Sweetie, but tomorrow we’ll try again.”