It takes 2.34 miles of pure torture before a run feels like a good idea. It takes another 1.41 miles before I actually feel settled into my groove. It's not until around mile 8 that I feel like I've successfully completed a good workout.
There are so many emotions to sweat away. So many reasons to just grit my teeth and keep on pushing harder, longer, farther.
And I'm starting to wonder if this is discipline, or just pure crazy madness.
Promise and Faith are supposed to be raking leaves. It is a balmy 64 degrees on a February day, and well, this Momma needs some sanity, on this President's Day, with five kids stuck at home on a Monday. They just need to successfully complete one job today. Just one job.....so I can praise them. Because, it's been rough. Really, desperately rough. But, it looks a bit futile. Yes, futile, pure crazy, madness.
Bear is practicing his advanced throwing skills. Rocks are pelting Faith and Promise in the backs.
Joy is finally sitting at the kitchen table and drawing away. One assignment from a precious aunt, and she is busy for an hour. Never mind I have tried to start school with her today at least five times. Each start met with harsh words, feeding into my already crushed self worth. I am carefully walking around these broken eggs trying to avoid another bloody mess.
I've already had my good run today, but right now I'm about ready to lace right up and start running away again. My Hope Man-Child already warned me. My time is already spent. He is tucked quietly away in his room pretending to do homework.
There are so many words, so many, many words. I should just keep my mouth shut.
Pure, crazy, futile madness.
