I woke up at 6:30 this morning and am writing this post at 9 p.m. In between those times, the only times I sat down were riding in the car and for a 10-minute phone call with Hart. And I felt good all day.
I’m visiting my sister and her family this week. She has been likened to a hurricane. This combined with her kids’ (who are seven, nine and 11) energy can be overwhelming even on the best days. Not only did I take it in stride today, I kept up with them.
My pain level has been so low and my energy so high today that I didn’t think to worry about overdoing it. Just now, looking at previous posts that have mentioned my sister, I came across this from last summer:
. . . I realized just how counterproductive it was to push myself. (OK, I’ve
realized this a thousand times already, but it’s a revelation every
time.) I had made myself feel worse than when I started and I had no
energy for the rest of the day.
. . . And it reminded me again of the lesson I should have learned by now. Don’t push it. It always backfires. Always.
There it is in writing — I know I should know better. The temptation to squeeze a little bit more fun into a good day is irresistible.
Now I’m going to do my best to be sure I don’t pay interest on the time I took today. The kids don’t have school tomorrow so I can sleep in and take it easy in the morning. I even have a new pillow so maybe my neck won’t ache in the night.
I so desperately want to prove last summer’s proclamation wrong.