The Wall

I've hit what most runners like to call "the wall". The mental block that tells you, "you can't go on. Everything hurts. Just stop. PLEEEEEEEEEEEZ?!?!" Normally, I'm a fan of the wall (in fitness). Or more accurately, I'm a fan of mustering up whatever I've got in me and kicking down that God damn wall to find the land filled with rainbows and a bath.

Well, that's not quite how things have been going since the weekend. It would appear I've slipped from tired to just plain sloth. And while sloths are cute, they are rather slow, sleep most of the time, and only poop once a week [video]. Me? I've slipped into my rarely eating habits again for some unknown reason, sleep until I have to get up, and lie in unless absolutely necessary. My old skills as a star procrastinator have aided these new habits.

Basically everything is in terms of "I have tos," which makes for rather interesting conversations with myself of what classifies as "I have to".