Two days ago I had a pretty disastrous trail run. Disastrous for me, that is. Normally, I run for a good 6 miles or so on cardio days when the weather is nice and I am not working. I'm able to run at a good, steady pace and, by the end of the summer, I'm usually able to up that to 8-10 miles at an 8-9 minute mile. I enjoy exercise. I'm no muscle bound cover model, but I enjoy the cathartic release of stress through physical activity.
Two days ago I went out for my usual run. It was a gorgeous day that had, thankfully, proven the weatherman to be wrong in his forecast of gray skies and possible rain. It was warm and I needed a break from studying. It ended abruptly, however, as I realized about 1.5 miles in that I was not feeling well. My hands, lips, and legs started a familiar tingly feeling that begins when my blood sugar drops out. I'm just a touch hypoglycemic and I hadn't eaten enough that day...apparently. I walked the final half mile of my first lap through the preserve in defeat.
I have a little app that keeps track of my running progress. I normally share that run on my personal social media for a few reasons. My father is a runner, and running is a way that I connect with him. A lot of my family is made up of pretty active people. And, sure, it's a bit of a humblebrag. Hey! Look at my awesome running skills!
That day I did not share my run to social media. I drank a sports drink, got in my car, and headed home feeling more than a bit defeated.