Sundays

It’s Sunday. For a lot of people that means it’s long run day or rest day. For me, it’s an “active recovery” day so that my body doesn’t go into complete shock with Monday’s workout run after Saturday’s long run. I take my full rest day on Friday because Fridays are when it’s the hardest to get out of bed and we all know that come Friday at 5pm the only thing I have any interest in is an alcoholic beverage. I tried for a long time to make Friday a cross training day and really bask in Sunday as the Lord’s day of rest (well, as much as I could for a non-believer), but it just didn’t work out and listening to our bodies is most important, right? Right. Craft brews it is!

Sunday is also very commonly, brunch day. As badass as it is to jump into social activities post long run, I can’t bring my ice bath and obnoxious sense of pride into public spaces too frequently or people start to ask questions. So, I’d much rather roll out of yoga or spin class or a home workout before joining any squad over benedicts and bubbles.

Today is Sunday. It’s an active recovery day. It’s also good day for brunch. Unlike many of my millennial peers, I am not downtown at a cafe that looks like it belongs inside of an Anthropologie, I am instead, home alone at my parents’ house.

I’ve been oddly anxious about my long runs lately and in working hard to cope with that anxiety, I have been spending Friday evenings with my parents so that are people around to help me get into the groove come 6am when I need to be getting ready for my long runs. When I’m home alone, I can so easily sleep in (because rest is good for my body, y’all) then the day gets too hot and I’m left anxious the whole day until sunset when it’s actually cool enough to run. So I come home. Where there is racket and coffee at 6am and smiling parents who tell me to “have a nice jog”...them simply using the word “jog” lights a fire of irritation under me and probably helps my pace.

Long Run: Check (This long run was actually really short. Early season, y'all.)

If you’re wondering why I am still here on Sunday, that is a fair question. I am puppy sitting for my sweet, sweet parents while they and my baby sister go to her first college tour. They left at 5:15 am. I had some coffee with them and immediately went back to sleep.

My active recovery day has consisted of a Beachbody On Demand Cardio workout and lot of short, but adventurous, puppy walks. I am the Queen of forgetting to feed myself on the weekends, so it’s around 1pm now and I’m just making brunch. Yes, I’m hosting a fabulous brunch for 1 today. Complete with a mimosa. And yes, it’s in a rocks glass because I don’t always trust myself with flutes.

Toast with scramble of spinach, mushroom, 2 eggs, and 1/4 c. egg whites. 

Sundays have different meaning, value, and agendas for everyone, but I think for many people, Sunday is in some way a day of ritual. You have your Sunday thing. It may change seasonally, but I think the consistency is always a good way to round out one week and set us up for another.

Happy Sunday, y’all.

P.S. Now that I think about it, I didn’t brunch last Sunday either. I slept in, worked out, then got a doughnut and a pedicure. Both carbs and pampering are important parts of race training. Also, it’s football season, so if you think football is as incredibly pointless as I do… how about you try going out and doing fun/important things during prime football time. Getting pedicures and going to Sam’s Club is never more of a breeze than when everyone else on the planet is home or at the bar watching football. You’re welcome for that life tip.