It’s a little warmer this morning but Mother Nature has added a drizzily greyness that has me slipping further into dormancy. Training for a marathon that is happening in less than six weeks and hibernation are not compatible.

Yesterday I hit the trail and ran a shuffling four and a half miles, not the ten on my schedule. I never managed to outrun my winter sluggishness and turned at the Congress Avenue Bridge instead of at the dam three miles further down.

Today the excuses continue. Next on my list after hibernation is fatigue. I spent most of the night managing a madness that possessed all three of our animals, compelling them to patrol the backyard as individual sentries in fifteen minute increments.  At one point Big Otis, our English bulldog, was sitting in a lawn chair in the freezing rain refusing to come inside. Matthew had to physically carry him in and place him on his zebra dog-bed.

They have become nocturnal and are definitely not hibernating.

Predictably, the animals are sleeping soundly on the couch this morning in a pile of psychosis hangover. I want to join them. Instead I am folding laundry, excuse number three. This is a significant warning sign of my compromised state to anyone who knows me. In the realm of household chores, I would rather clean toilets and pick up cat throw up than fold laundry. Not today. I’m happily making stacks of clean clothes and listening to RadioLab. I need to see the sun and feel a little warmth, excuse numbers four and five.

This completes my Day 38 blog post, excuse number six.  Back to the laundry, excuse number three.

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