I’m sitting here in a dark hotel room with my 12 year old son snuggled up to me. It’s quiet and I’m awake.

I’m always awake. But that’s okay.

I’m thinking about how I wish I had spent more time walking or on the treadmill yesterday instead of playing Tiny Tower on my phone.

I tell myself that I can do it today – which is true.

I also tell myself that it’s ridiculous that I made that choice. This pain is nothing compared to the pain that others endure. This pain isn’t stopping me from doing things like going for a walk – it’s the choices that I make that stop the walk/run/yoga from happening.

It’s just pain.

I just get tired of it sometimes.

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