Onslaught

On a normal Saturday through Tuesday, I run at the very least 25 miles. It may be more, depending on my Saturday mileage.

This Saturday through Tuesday, I've run 13 miles.

And the mood swings have started. I've cried twice this morning, and I really can't tell you why exactly. I was snippy with my family last night, for no apparent reason.

Those endorphins are some powerful stuff.

This morning was my official last morning run. The next time I run, it will be at the Rock N Roll Marathon on Sunday.

I wish I could fully explain how I feel. It's very similar to the PMDD I used to feel before I started running. I'm scattered and anxious. I have all these scenarios in my head of the way things are going to go, but I don't bother to tell anyone. So when things don't go the way I have already decided they will go...I lose it.

Last night, I had planned to come home after Katie's dance class, feed her supper, eat something myself, change into my PJs and zone out to "The Voice" which I had scheduled the DVR to record at 7 p.m.

Sounds easy, right?

Except when I got home, my husband was watching TV. So I got mad and grumpy and argumentative.

Over a scenario I had created in my head three hours before that he didn't know about.

And when he asked me what was wrong, instead of saying, "I really wanted to watch 'The Voice,'" I said, "Nothing. I'm fine," in a way that he knew I really wasn't fine. But since he had no clue what my problem was, he went back to watching his TV show.

And I stewed.

Let it be known that if I had been reasonable about the TV show, Russ would have totally turned the remote over to me. He watches the show from time to time with me, and the show he was watching wasn't one of his "can't-miss" shows.

The last time I did this, the moodiness didn't start until the night after I missed my first run. Last night's incident took me by surprise because I wasn't expecting it this early.

I'm not going to let this get the best of me, though. I already have a plan for tonight: A glass of wine, watching the election returns (my favorite night of work at The Enterprise was Election Night), and cleaning.