So it's Sunday and I think I'm more exhausted than I was on Friday.
Never a good sign.
My grandfather drove his bulldog (golf cart type of vehicle) over the bank of their creek (which is about ten feet high). He got trapped underneath the vehicle and hit his head on a rock.
We met the ambulance at the hospital and when they wheeled him in, he was covered in blood.
But he's ok.
He tore his rotator cuff and has a subdural hematoma, but he's alive.
So I've been driving back and forth to spend time with them and even spent the night on Thursday to monitor his symptoms.
I wasn't sure whether I should run on Saturday morning, but he insisted that I do it. He's been proud of my running over the past year.
So I ran for him, and I think it was the best for both of us. I got to run out some of the stress and he got to feel like he was giving me a break.
Running Saturday morning might have been the most selfish thing I did this week, but it ended up helping more than just me.