Well, the day was not that slow that I didn't do anything but I only ran 5K instead of the longer run I had contemplated, and I didn't clean the house because my husband asked me not to.
Which was a mistake, by the way.
I had asked him if it would be alright if I did the cleaning in the afternoon while he had a long break between students. He said rather not because then I'd be busily running around making noise while he would want to get things done. Fair enough.
The he went outside and raked leaves for 1 1/2 hours. Which was the exact amount of time I would have needed for the cleaning. Bad planning. I should have realized that once he was outside he'd spend a longer time there.
Instead I sat down, practiced a bit, and then spent a lot of time reading the internet. Blah.
Then there was teaching, and the skipping of the strength training (I have all but given up on doing strength training on Thursdays, it just never happens. I'm thinking of moving Thursday strength training back to Friday which would mean no official recovery day from exercise but then what I'm doing is not that strenuous anyway. And this week I could also declare both Wednesday and Saturday non-exercise days because all I did (or will be doing) is riding my bike a few kilometers which falls in the same category as walking around town diong errands.)
My son is no help with the strength training, he keeps dodging it whenever he can. Fun! I'm not all that motivated as well because I don't see any forward momentum. I need to change something up again so that I can see progress.
I know, it's weird. My husband is exercising for maintenance. He does the same thing every time, and is happy about it. He doesn't feel the need to run faster or get stronger or anything, he is just content staying where he is. I, on the other hand, am still secretly dreaming of running marathons, and being able to do handstand pushups. Part of me is also utterly convinced that I'll never get there but I'll try, slowly and steadily, anyways.
I'm not quite sure this is about goals as such. I do set myself goals all the time, and I do move towards them but I don't feel all bad when I don't reach them. Like when I hurt my hip I didn't cry because all my running progress was lost. I just switched to swimming and biking instead. And then, when my hip was better again, I just started over. Because this is not about running one race, this is about exercising day in and day out for the long run to stay healthy and fit. I also don't actually run in races. If I ever manage to run 21K I will do it all on my own, step out the house, run my 21K, come back home, and celebrate quietly. And two days later I will probably go out for a long walk or something.
As you can tell I have thought a lot about setting goals lately. And why it might be a good thing to set them even if you never quite reach them. Contrary to popular advice I like keeping my goals a little vague. I don't set dates any more. Like a publishing date for my trilogy. Because I had to move that date further and further away, and it made me feel like a failure. But I still won't give up on publishing the thing. I'm hoping for some time next year because as things are going that won't happen in the next few months.
Well. This will all become rather interesting next month because of the whole “writing a novel in a month”-thing. Speaking of goals, I had planned to have the new novel all outlined by now. That hasn't happened. I'm hoping for Sunday and Monday where I will miraculoucly become a different person, and sit down to produce a beautiful, detailed outline of the novel that right now is just a rather vague idea in my head with a main character and not much else.
Yeah, that will be fun!