My husband let me sleep in this morning, but still I found myself up and about before he left for work. After all, I had to get in my work out. Initially, I thought I might walk outside. But when I opened the front door, the humidity enveloped me. No point being uncomfortable, right? I filled a glass with water and headed downstairs. Usually on Fridays, I like to do something different. Maybe I'd pop in an exercise DVD or just do a few extra push ups or weight repetitions, last chance workout before my weekend recovery time. This morning, I lacked motivation. I didn't even raise the incline on the treadmill as high as I usually do. After my usual routine of exercises, I came upstairs and woke our son. While he was working on merit badge requirements in preparation for his upcoming camp, I clipped on my pedometer and ran errands. Amazingly, I managed to accumulate another 2 miles just walking around bringing me to a total of 7 miles for the day. Not too shabby for a day I really wasn't in the mood to work out.
Anyway, nothing seemed to shake the feeling. Not the radio in the car, not even the shopping. Then I came home. When I walked in the door, I noticed our son was upstairs practicing on the guitar he bought with his savings. Yesterday was his first official lesson. After a few minutes of listening, I noticed something odd. I hadn't asked him to put on the his headphones. Whatever he was playing, it was calming, uplifting. I actually began to feel better. I sure am glad he didn't buy drums.
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