I've made an executive decision.
I'm usually not one to take any smack talking, but when it's coming from my own body, I've learned who's boss.
My training the last couple of weeks has been tough on me-- particularly on my shins and hip-- and while I've still had some strong workouts, I can feel weariness settling over me like a thick cloud. I decided a couple days ago to take some time off, starting with today's scheduled nine-miler. My last run of four miles was actually a very good run, but combined with some weight training I've been doing, my body is just spent.
I don't anticipate laying off very long; in fact, I'm hoping three days off in a row will be just what the doctor ordered and I'll be able to pick up again on Monday. My training program may need to be rearranged somewhat, but I'm early enough in my training to have been able to spare this week in favor of getting some rest.
So, come Monday morning, I'll see how I feel. The intelligent, reasonable part of me says "take the whole week off; you'll be better and stronger without missing a beat". But the obsessive-compulsive part of me says, "you must be kidding me... you know you could never do it". After three days off from running, the withdrawal symptoms will set in: twitching, shaky hands, slurring of speech, foaming at the mouth.
And that's just after three days. After a week, it's likely I'll be lying in the fetal position, mumbling incoherently like Rain Man in a pool of my own drool.
Still, I know it may be the right decision.
Definitely the right decision. Definitely. Of course, I don't have my underwear...