When Coffee Doesn't Work, Part 257

It's part 257 because I know, I absolutely know, that I've written about this before. Here's the July, 2019 edition.

I'm awake (barely) and out of bed around four. That's a half-hour later than usual, but I figured I'd need this extra sleep on a Monday, and I was right. Almost. I actually needed more. What's so special about Mondays I wonder? I didn't go too very wild over the weekend in terms of running, or anything much else. Just my meek, usual routine.

Okay, I did run 30-plus miles when you combine Saturday and Sunday's mileage. But that's not all that unusual. Saturday's 21 was on the Towpath. I get down there once a month or so, and it's still one of my favorite running venues. Saturday I ran with Mike George and J.C. Jones.

I shuffle over to the already-made coffee. Thank goodness for the auto-timer on the Mr. Coffee machine - otherwise I'd have to wait 90 seconds for the first cup to brew. But today's a two-cup day, and two cups still isn't enough. All the coffee in the world isn't enough.

By around five, I'm out the door, shuffling along on my five-mile route. (I don't need to go so far today.) And I do mean shuffling. Even though I don't look at my watch, I know I'm only doing something in the neighborhood of 13-minute miles. And speaking of the neighborhood, I don't even make it out of mine. This five-mile route is simple: five one-mile loops around the block, with a teensy bit of variation built in.

There are times when I start as slow as I did today, but eventually wake up and begin running better. Today is not one of those days. I continue at shuffle pace, and actually make it through the run with the minimum number of steps necessary to consider it a completion of the five-mile course.

Maybe I'll wake up as I commute to the office. Maybe not.