In a runner's life, there are bound to be days like this. I missed the running clinic. Because of monstrous EDSA southbound traffic.
I was on the road, on my butt, for almost three hours, counting the less than 30 minutes it took me to get home after making a u-turn under the Ortigas flyover.
It was so frustrating seeing the minutes tick by, imagining my runmates going through the High Street loops. It was sheer agony and I had to really steel myself for the decision of turning back. For a while I was considering still going to High Street and just running on my own, but I realized it would be so hilarious if I got there at 9.
So I just turned back, went home and worked on my fashion class assignment. That made me feel a bit better. Sometimes we don't know why we miss certain things. But I believe that God puts us where we're supposed to be at a certain time. Maybe I just wasn't meant to run today. To give my body more time to recover.
Must run on Sunday.