I have been blessed (or cursed) with an amazing internal clock. I thank (or blame) my time as a member of America’s elite fighting forces for making it so that I rise early. I need to get up around 5:30 every morning. Without having set any alarms, I consistently wake up between 5:20-5:40. And when something is going on during the weekend and I need to get up at, say, 7:00, I am always up no later than 6:50. It’s truly a gift (or curse).

Until this week. Daylight savings time has been fucking up a brother hardcore. I’ve slept up to an hour late all week and it has me wondering if it’s the government screwing with me by mandating these dumb arbitrary dates to switch the time around or if I’m getting old. I don’t know the answer but I choose to blame the government.

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I am two weeks away from my first half marathon. This Sunday I have a 9 mile training run on the schedule. The last thing I want to do is 9 miles on a treadmill. So, of course, Saturday’s forecast is calling for great weather and Monday’s forecast is calling for great weather, but Sunday’s weather… when it’s not raining and/or snowing is supposed to be cold and windy. God hates me.

Luckily, weather forecasters are idiots who can’t predict the weather they just came in from, so there’s a good chance Sunday morning’s weather will be just fine.