You've had a bad day

Mon AM 6.9K Recovery Run
Tue PM 1.7K Swim Squad
Wed AM 10K Run in 54:15

Monday's recovery run was tough. Still sore from the half on Sunday I struggled through the usual 7K in the usual time, but all my muscles were swearing at me.

Tuesday night saw me back at Revesby for swim squad. I've missed squad for the last two weeks, but I'd got some decent swimming in. Last night was a killer session.

There was 700m of warm up, which was easy enough, but then he had me doing 8 * 50m in 65 seconds. I really struggled in the last 2, and finished breathing like the old asthmatic donkey. After 200m of slow recovery, he had me doing the same again.

This time I really struggled. in the last lap I was thinking "How the hell am I going to run tomorrow after this!". My whole body felt stuffed. Mercifully, this was the end of the hour, so I went to my sister's place for the night.

I did drag myself out for the run this morning, and it was a strange one. I felt really sore in the legs in the first few K, so I decided to only go for 10K. I hit the 5K turnaround at 27:50, so it was 5:34 pace. I wanted to keep the pace up for the last five, so despite the fact I was hurting I pushed it.

Everey time I checked the Garmin on the way back it showed about 5:30, but each time it beeped on the kilometre it showed about 5:15. I really stuglled up the final hill, but I got through the run in 54:15, so it was a big negative split. I thought I might puke after the run - I really felt stuffed, but it was a good run.

From there the day turned nasty:

I had left my anti depressants at home, so I missed a dose again.

I had a smash on my way to work (my fault, and I copped a gobful of (deverved) abuse from the other driver).

I had IT problems at work, and the helpdesk response was "I don’t know what’s going on. Nobody here knows what is going on."

While I was in the IT department chasing an answer, the majority shareholder of the company was looking for me, so I inadvertently kept him waiting for 30 minutes.

At this point that dreadful "You've had a bad day" song got into my head, and I couldn't shake it (I hate that song).

And then the clincher:

The kettle stopped working again.

At this point I just thought of Flash Duck's description of this kettle: The barometer of office optimism. It was then I knew that fate was laughing at me, so I laughed with it - I had a good run this morning, a good swim last night and all of this shit is nothing that a good dose of endorphins can't deal with. I made my coffee in another office, and the day got better from there.