Arriving home, after work I tackled my feisty cat Guinness
into the cat basket to take him to the vets. He was not in the least bit
pleased with this and howled the whole way there and back again. Only stopping
for a while whilst actually with the vets to shake uncontrollably and hide his
head in my jacket. His little sad and hard done by expression made planted a
seed for an excuse to grow… perhaps I shouldn't go to my class, he needs me at
home to look after him.
I soon realised that he was fine and I was the pitiful one using my cat as an excuse so into my kit I got and off the gym I went. As a warm up to a new class I had signed up for (and very almost cancelled again) I felt 2 miles on the treadmill seemed a doable feat. I would take on an easy pace and be nicely warmed up but not worn out for the class. At the end of two miles I felt pretty happy and comfortable with my pace and would have gladly continued but as I saw the instructor and other class members begin to gather I had to go and join them. Nice to know that I can run without feeling like poop when I finish every time now… just some of the time J
Upon my return, although still feeling sorry for himself,
Guinness had forgiven me and curled up on my lap whilst I relaxed before
bedtime.
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