I didn’t intend to take a rest day yesterday. Really, I didn’t. But when my alarm sounded at 5:00, I turned it off and went back to sleep.
“I’ll run later,” I told myself.
But later came and there was still no running. I had to wait for the oven repairman. Again. For the third time. There was no way I was going to miss him.
Yes, I know what you are thinking: I could have run on the treadmill. But I had done 20 miles on it on Friday while waiting for the missing repairman, and a girl can only take so much.
So, I took a nap.
And then the repairman called and said he was on his way, so I got up. By the time he was done, it was lunchtime, and I was hungry. No lunch run for me.
After I ate a delicious roast beef with cherry chutney and horseradish aioli sandwich, a bowl of cream of broccoli soup, and a nutmeg doughnut, I was too full to run. And I was sleepy.
So, I went home and napped again.
Finally, at 5;00, I dragged myself out of bed and went downstairs to put chicken in the (newly-repaired) oven for dinner. I was tempted to lie on the couch while I waited until it was time to pick up the kids, but I resisted. I was afraid I wouldn’t wake up.
My work day was over. I hadn’t run a step, written a word (other than uploading a blog post), or edited any pages. I had done nothing but sleep – all day
And it felt glorious.
How often do you take a rest day?