Normally, on a Friday evening, at the end of the working week – by the time washing has been hung up, another load put away, dinner’s been made and eaten, TWM’s been bathed and put to bed – I’m good for nothing. A stupor on the sofa watching some trashy TV and a mooch around t’interwebs is about all I can manage.
This evening was beautiful. So I dragged myself up, into my trainers, and went out for a run instead of just falling onto the sofa. I only ran 3.5k, but I feel fab now. I’ve not eaten junk, and I feel I’ve earned my couple of hours relaxation afterwards.
Exercise makes you feel better. Who knew?!