After her run, she labels herself as lazy. Every muscle aches, but she didn’t run for long. That weird part between heel and ball of foot pulses. She made fists as she ran and now her biceps throb. She berates herself in the mirror for not being more active. If she did this more than once in a blue moon, she wouldn’t feel like this. She reminds herself, it was only twenty minutes. That she wasn’t fast. That she should have handled it. But she didn’t. She feels loose and floppy and her bed calls her name. She hates herself for being so lazy, but she gives in. She collapses on the bed, shuts her eyes, and decides she’s done enough for one day.