running to sleep

Yesterday was my long run day in my training regimen for the Marine Corps Marathon this coming October.  I did the Jeff Galloway training program; running for 3 minutes followed by a 1 minute walk.  I did that ratio for 10 miles at which point my leg's glycogen stores were depleted and for the last 2 miles I ran when I could and walked when I couldn't. Near the end I was running for one block and walking for 1 block. but lest you think I was slacking off; Galloway says it's completing the distance no matter how.

Why is this pertinent to a sleep journal?  To say I was fatigued after completing this 2 hour and 52 minutes endeavor would be an understatement.  I was certain that I would sleep the sleep of the dead, last night, so deep was my fatigue.  Everyone of my 200+ skeletal muscles was aching for respite.

After the requisite replenishment with a chocolate protein drink, (think Boost here,) a fistful of Motrin, (okay, 800 mg.) and a substantial meal of pure nutrition, ( Salmon, brusssel sprouts, sweet potato, and 7 oz. of merlot + 2 quarts of ice cold H2O) I was ready to slip between the sheets.  Not wanting to go to sleep on a full stomach, I forced my self to stay up and listen to some music on Pandora, and scroll through my Facebook page.  I was literally too tired to read my novel.

At 8 P.M. on the dot I pulled the sheet over my aching body and let the arms of Morpheus embrace me.  At 10:30 P.M. I was awake, still achy and needing to relieve the pressure in my urinary bladder.
After returning to the comfort of my bed, the solace of Hypnos and his brother Morpheus eluded me.  Oh they teased me off and on but never fully embraced me for more than 20 minutes at any one time.
At 0430, recognizing the futility of expecting any further sleep I got up and began my morning ablutions, grateful that today is a rest day in my training.  With a forecast of a warm, bright, sunny Sunday in the high sixties, I see myself outside on a bench reading my book and smoking a rum soaked cigar from Englewood's "Vino Loco" Tapas bar.

To sleep, to dream; 'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.