My run last night was hard. I think maybe just as hard as when I first started, and I don’t really know why. I just couldn’t find my stride, and my legs were killing me (I’m hoping it’s not shin splints), alternating between feeling like lead and feeling like jelly. My last run was Friday, so it’s not that long ago. Humph. Hope it doesn’t continue like this, I was doing ok.
After that I was at the ’so-tired-cannot-stop-yawning-nor-have-coherent-thought state, and attempted to go to bed at a reasonable hour. Then, at 4 am, I was woken up by the weirdest sound, coming from above me (there’s another flat up there). The best I can explain it is like someone was carrying a half full plastic container of water across the room and back again, so it made a sloshy/echo sound. I know, weird. And then there was rustling. I decided either it was the pipes, or a huge rat in the walls that was going to burst out and gnaw on my face while I slept. Because I was sleep deprived and have a stupidly active imagination, I decided it was the latter, and so sleep did not come easy.
I still don’t know what it was, but I get to spend the next two days in a fancy hotel, so I’m not worrying about it. If a giant rat attacks the place, the flatmates can deal with it.
