Just as surely as my running gets better when I am feeling good, bad moods have the opposite effect. Of course this is the time when I most need a good run, but there you go.

My running has been sorely disrupted this week while I adjust to a new work schedule. Tonight though, I needed nothing more than a good pavement pounding. Unfortunately, my body was having none of it.

My knee was clicking so loudly it sounded like two coins hitting together, which was wholly audible even with my earphones off. I was too distracted by this phenomenon to focus on my course, and as a result kept stopping to decide upon my next turn. Every turn I took only seemed to lead to more pavement and/or more hills, both of which meant my knee got even worse.

Then, my iPod ran out of batteries.

That’s when I knew it was all over, I should just give up and go home. Of course this put me in an even worse mood than I was in before this abortive attempt, but so things go.

Clearly this is due to a long day and not enough sleep, right? Perhaps, but I am also all too aware of how psychosomatic the quality of my runs can be. Today was exactly one month since my grandmother’s birthday, the last night we all spent with her before things went horribly awry.

I thought about this fact early in the morning, but managed to sideline it for the rest of the day. Sidelining only works so well, however. The emotion has to surface somewhere, sometime, and I think today that happened in my atrocious attempt at a run.

Good thing is – there’s always another day, and another run. Here’s to the next attempt.

(Significant Other asks: Is a bad run worse than no run at all? I say yes.)