Magic Number 7

That's the number of hours of sleep I need in order to have a decent amount of energy for life, and workouts. It's unfortunately, NOT the number of hours I have gotten this week- a week when I wonder why my two adorable, wonderful, sweet boys want to kill their mom. Monday night was approximately 3 hours, I think Tuesday was about 4 hours and last night was all the way up to 6 hours. I felt a little better this morning, but my spin class output was a bit lower than usual. Yesterday, though, I was in serious danger of hurting myself because I couldn't even pick up my feet. I was planning to run on the treadmill, it turned into a pretty pathetic 2 mile jog and I kept wondering who put speed bumps on the treadmill because I kept dragging a foot on the belt. I was, fortunately, able to remain upright because I had visions of doing a face plant into the front display followed by a slow, embarrassing slide onto the floor behind the treadmill. I don't have too much hope for a fast run tomorrow morning before weights class, but as long as I get up and get to the gym that might be enough. I really had to fight the urge to sleep in this morning but once we finished class I was glad I got up after 4 minutes of inward cursing and fighting with myself about whether to get up or roll back over. Thanks to whichever half of me kicked the other half out the door to the gym.