A pause to get my bearings

We went to Paris last weekend to meet some friends. I got up on Saturday morning intending to run 12 miles on the Champs-Elysees and next to the Seine. I've never been to Paris before, but I had my handy tracking device with me and thought I would be fine. But Meg rolled over and expressed concern for me and her fear that I would get lost, and that's a really hard thing to argue against considering my track record. So, off to the fitness centre. I really don't like the treadmill anymore, and this fitness centre wasn't great - no TVs, and the treadmill was facing a huge mirror, so I was looking at the prospect of 12 miles with nothing except my increasingly sweaty face and body to look at. After a half hour, I'd had enough. I slipped over to the bike and did another half hour, and called it a day. We walked and walked all over Paris, and I managed to come home without gaining weight, I think, so I'll call that one a draw. This week I've been traveling like a crazy person and completely exhausted, so much so that I'm having trouble remembering where I am and what day it is, so I have not been running at all. I'm off to NY for a short visit tonight, and since I have no real plans I'm going to run 12 miles tomorrow and a short run on Sunday before I come home, and get back on track next week.

Pause 1: I hate the treadmill

In the hotel. No reason I couldn't have run outside, except, well, I didn't really feel like it. Too much time on airplanes has tightened my calves. Off to the exercise room with me. 1/2 mile on the treadmill, and I'd had it. So I lifted weights instead. C'est la vie. Something is better than nothing, and as long as I do at least a little this week, and pick it up again next week, I'll be happy. Plus, Christmas at my in-laws = desire to run for the break.