Three in the Morning

I tend to only stay up until three in the morning either on a major party when I have nothing to do the next day, or a movie marathon.  I usually prefer the second, which now happens a lot with help from my lovely new laptop, though I do like the occasional party, but when I have a major test the next day, staying up until three in the morning is not a good thing.

I was exhausted last night.  I was dead.  At nine, so by nine thirty I was asleep, which is unheard of for me.  My perfect sleep pattern is one in the morning until nine, but that doesn’t happen very often.  But anyways I went to bed at nine, and I was still tired when I woke up at three in the morning.  For future reference, being up from 3:00-4:45 in the middle of the night, lying on your bed waiting to fall asleep is not one of the more enjoyable activities one can do.  I can think of a thousand things i would prefer to do at that time, and yesterday it was to sleep.

I am not an insomniac.  I believe in lots of sleep, and my body has absolutely no problem sleeping.  Some times I even power nap, usually on the way to or from mt. Baker, preferably in the back of Stanley Harris’s yellow Jeep (it is always very hot and sunny, and his seats are very comfortable, all of which add to the sleep appeal).  So why on earth was I awake last night at such ungodly hours?

My mom said it was probably stress.  And the only thing I would think of to stress me out was cross-country.  We had run a practice race that day, in preparation for the race next friday.  It was not fun.  It was a 1.4 mile race, which is arguably my worst race.  I have three speeds.  Speed A=my marathon/5k speed.  Speed B=my 100 meter dash speed. Speed C=my run for your life/ball is about to go into the net, and I must stop it speed.  My best race is probably an eight mile race.  That is of course, assuming that everybody else in my grade can’t run for eight miles, which is a fairly safe assumption for must people, except Andrew and Sam, because they are both training for marathons.

I think I was stressed about cross-country because I don’t know what to do about it.  I don’t know whether to race or not.  I am probably the third best girl from my school, which means that in all school races I don’t have a chance at winning.  I am not very good at losing.  I am not a sore loser, I simply beat myself up.  I remember getting second at Districts in cross-country in New Zealand and I ran and ran after that.  I trained so hard, and the girl who beat me ended up dropping out of regionals, so I won.  But even then I was still mad at myself for losing.  It is hard for me to let things go.  It is impossible for me to lose without inflicting pain upon myself.  So last night I was sitting in bed, wondering what is the best thing for me to do.  I can’t remember what I decided, but I must’ve come up with an answer because I went back to sleep at about 4:45.

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