It's Monday, and I logged close to 100 miles on my bike trainer this weekend - And just in case you're concerned, the lions share of that came in the wee hours of Sunday morning. 1am and there I was watching American Pie and cranking away, while dripping sweat. Good Times!
But that isn't the pie I'm referring to...
This morning, my legs were dead and my body was achy. It's become a rather common feeling of late as my training ramps up significantly.
I was prepared before going to bed last night. I had my running bag packed, and a second bag packed with all my work stuff, since I planned on starting the day off with a swim.
I distinctly remember grabbing my keys and my id for work as well and having them ready to go.
Sleep was hard to come by last night. Not that I was tired, but on hourly intervals, Koda Kids #3 and #4 decided that they needed parental intervention in their lives.
When my alarm went off at 4:20, it felt like I had just barely put my head down again for the 4th time.
I grabbed my phone (Which I use as a secondary alarm and reset it for 5:55) and then rolled over and tried to get as much sleep as I could in the 30 minutes remaining.
Now you may be questioning my math skills, but in my defense it was freakin' early in the morning.
At 5:30, my sweet wife woke me up by asking why I wasn't meeting my carpool ride (We meet at 5:30). Dazed and confused, I grabbed my phone, and then realized that I'd screwed up. Texts were hastily sent and I hustled into the shower.
I was still in a good mood at this point.
By 6 I was ready to go and just needed my keys...
And they weren't were I left them.
I searched the whole room, and then ran down to the kitchen and then to my office...
That was when things turned south for my mood...
FREAKIN'N KIDS... WHERE THE HELL ARE MY KEYS!!!
I knew I was being cranky, and my reactions were unjustified, but I was having a hard time stopping myself.
I think my poor wife was the only one I disturbed, although Kid #4 started whining about something and got a rather curt and nasty comment from me in the midst of my ransacking the bedroom.
15 minutes later and I decide to check the bag I was planning on taking to the pool, and discover that in my packing of the clothes last night, I'd thrown my keys in as well.
Humble Pie sucks.
I apologized to Mrs Koda profusely, and tried to snap out of my funk, but I'm struggling with it still, and I'm not sure if my rude awakening of her will be forgotten too soon either.
While I try to return to my job and try and improve my outlook for the week, let me share this. I think Mr. Vedder does a better job than the Beatles, but that's just my opinion.