So here comes Saturday rolling on as if it couldn't have a care in the world for my hopeless procrastination...and again, my ass was not out on the trails, it was not down on the treadmill...it was here-parked in front of the computer for the better part of the day. 11 turned to 12 which eventually turned into late afternoon which then proceeded at warp speed to turn into evening. I was starting to think it was a lost cause so when George called and offered to pick up chinese food I jumped at the chance and welcomed the idea of gorging myself on kung pao chicken (extra spicy). And then, as the clock inched towards 8:30 I started to feel that pesky guilt rising in me a little. *clearing throat* LET THE SCHEDULE RE-ARRANGING/BARGAINING BEGIN!!!! ...so, if I do my strength training tonight then maybe I can get a longer run in tomorrow, or maybe I can just do a shortened version of strength and grab a few miles tonight and then do a few more tomorrow, or maybe if I feel REALLY strong I can do my full routine and run 9 miles after and then be right back on schedule and able to take tomorrow off... I swear, the time I end up wasting in the re-arranging would be so much better utilized during the actual week when I figured skipping all these workouts was such a grand idea in the first place (oh yeah, did I mention I'm the queen of self scolding as well??). I came to rest on the decision of my full strength workout and three miles on Saturday followed up on Sunday with six miles.
I was extremely proud of myself for making it work until this morning when that evil treadmill started haunting every one of my waking moments. But I changed it up-I thought I'd block the time on the clock and the console and try to watch a movie (but it had to be a pretty frivolous flick cuz I wasn't about to move the dreadmill closer to the t.v. and, um, my eyesight just isn't all that great now...and the motor of the machine kinda drowns out the sound on the t.v. but hey, I'm still gonna be gung ho about this, right?? <--said in my best sarcastic tone). Ok, to anyone reading this, for the future... The Devil Wears Prada + 6 miles on the treadmill = monotonous torture-I strongly suggest you do NOT attempt this at home. Oh well, it's done, and I'd love to say I took something away from it but ya know, the siren call of procrastination will win me over again...it's inevitable.