I should already be in Atlanta.

I should be unpacked, relaxed and mindlessly flipping channels from some nondescript hotel room in the middle of a nondescript office park.

Instead, I’m 36,000 feet over Lake Ontario heading towards Cleveland where we’ll take a left and start the journey south.

it’s going to be a late night and I’m afraid my planned 60 minute Monday morning run will suffer because of it.

I didn’t run today (Sunday).

I was supposed to run six miles, but we (Michelle and I) had overnight guests – our friends’ 8 year old and one year old slept over while their Mom and Dad partied all night at a wedding.

I used the “help out in the morning” excuse as my reason for not running today. 

In reality, yesterday’s run took a lot out of me, and I thought it would be best to have one more day of recovery.

But now as I watch the minutes tick by and try to calculate our arrival time I’m wondering how much sleep I’ll really get and if I’ll have the energy to get out the door at 5am.