I got out for a casual 7k run Friday morning during our unpleasant streak of humidity. It was hot and sweaty, but uneventful.
Then I got home and our two cords of firewood were delivered and waiting on our driveway.
I solicited the “help” of my two kids and set to work lifting, moving, stacking in an attempt to stay ahead of the threatening rain. After finally putting a tarp over the stacks at 8pm, I had finished almost all of it.
Saturday morning was again fog strewn and heavy with wet air. I got out for a deathly laborious 10k then had to finish up the last wall of firewood. I hurried it along and got ‘er done just ahead of the rain. (As if I just said “‘er”?! So, not me. I’m delirious after all the work.)
Sunday inevitably rolled in and I could hardly move. My back, hamstrings, biceps, neck, and especially hands are all aching or swollen or just sore. No run for me. It has come to the point where I hate not running. And today, normally a long quiet weekend run day, no run. Boo hiss.
The running was tough in the heat, the stacking of the firewood was brutal. And the combo was too much. So much that I missed out on a run opportunity. That irks me.
I hope I can get back out to run mostly pain free tomorrow. If not, I’ll just kick up my feet, ice my body, and chill my hands by holding a cold beer while blogging about not running.
Nice stack though.