Rose colored glasses
Friday, I was recognized for doing something at work. A partner thanked me multiple times. He laughed at how funny the issue was and was impressed that I had found it. He must have thanked me 7 times. It's amazing how good that shit can make you feel.
Funny thing is, it's the gift that keeps on giving. I didn't know I was going anything particularly great. I was doing what I normally do. So all that praise goes gently, like a soothing balm, over the general anxiety I feel on a day-to-day basis about my job performance (since, you know, I'm flying by the seat of my pants most of the time).
I fell asleep last night at 10 PM. I slept 'til 7:40 AM, when I awoke, peacefully before my alarm.
I put on my running gear and met up with B for an ambitious 11 mile run in Portola Valley. I hadn't done anything longer than 8 miles since the Marathon. Plus, it was a loop with some light rolling hills. But after last week's hilly absurdity, 11 miles actually felt reasonable. Sure, I'm tired, a little sore, and well aware of how much I struggled through a distance that just 2 months ago was a medium-length resting weekend run. But, I did it at a semi-decent pace. Which means I'm in good enough shape for the half marathon that I already paid to do. Thank goodness.
Plus, I spent the two hour run chatting with B and complaining and venting and gasping for breath such that when it was all done I was spent. Relaxed in that completely drained way that makes all of life's annoyances seem unimportant. I mean, who has the energy for those things?
And tonight, just when I recover my energy, I'm off to an event where I'm planning to meet up with some college teammates I haven't seen in 10 years. Should be a blast.
Why wouldn't my glasses be rose-colored?