My body is not very happy with me now. And all I want to do is curl into a ball on the bed and never leave the room.

I only have 4 rules when it comes to whether I should quit running (on the treadmill or outside)

1. I am going to physically die
2. I am going to faint.
3. I am going to throw up
4. I am going to crap in my pants.

#Fact. After I set my treadmill for 10.0 yesterday, you know, in preparation for the sundown run.
Music check, many tv screens check. Run.
After 2.4km I already wanted to die and it was just around 15min. Oh well its just me and my lazy body wanting to cop out. So I continued. By 4+ I decided I was really miserable and the endorphins did not kick in nor did the run get any easier. ): Reduced total mileage to 6.0km. Upped the speed a little and just ran on. Hit 6.0, decided to do 1 more. Did 7.0km and promptly hopped off. Not even till 7.01km. That bad.

Zero runners high, zero adrenaline rush, only cold sweat. zzzzz. Even my favourite hot shower felt gross. Needless to say, the journey home was torture. Stupid stupid decision to not need my own rules when it comes to quitting a run. Literally felt 3 of 4 of the symptoms up there. Sometimes I am certain I don’t think at all.
Zero appetite but forced down half a nature valley bar. Normally I love those things post run but that just tasted like crap.

I am so writing this down to remind me of my incredible stupidity in not listening to my own body.
And to never (try really hard) not to let this happen again. Wonder what did I eat to make my stomach into such a rebel. Hmm.

So I have the day off, not complaining about that. And the brother has been absolutely fantastic accomodating my inane requests hahaha like eating icecream while sick >_< not my smartest moment. But since my stomach wants to be such a bitch, well it can continue to do so with some icecream in it. Heh.

Off to hibernate somemore.