Never Again—I Mean It!

Something very momentous happened yesterday, and not in a good way. Yesterday I skipped the first day of training since Dec. 22 when I started my Friel plan. It was supposed to be a three-hour day, so instead of the 10 hours I was supposed to have in, I only had seven. I couldn't have skipped one of the hour and a half days so I didn't feel as guilty, could I?

Things have been so hectic around here lately. What with my freelance work picking up and starting a new freelance project that will be 20 hours a week for at least the next six months, not to mention my training schedule, still trying to get our super secret project finished and frantically cleaning the house last week to prepare for weekend guests, I haven't even spent any time on Facebook, and you know that's bad. It's obvious I haven't been keeping my blog updated.

At any rate, we spent Saturday and the first part of Sunday with our overnight guests. We had a great time with them, but someone (namely me) had too much to drink on Saturday night. It blows me away that I still do this every so often. I didn't think I was drinking that much, got a little silly, but felt like I was okay. That was until I woke up the next morning. I was drinking margaritas, which are normally pretty innocuous, but when I got up on Sunday and saw how much tequila was missing from that bottle I understood why I felt so rotten. By the time evening rolled around after several frantic sprints for the bathroom, I was finally feeling okay, but I wasn't about to ride the trainer at that point.

So not only did I not train yesterday, but I didn't train because I was hung over, which is really lame. I guess I need to get it together. I'm too old for this crap.