Would the alien in my brain please leave?

I seem to have come down with a serious case of "I don't give a crap." This past weekend was very busy, not lots of sleep, plenty to eat and drink, plenty of company. Sunday evening's post Easter dinner run got rained out and wasn't able to do one yesterday, so I knew I had to fit something in today before I meet with my trainer. This week's goal was to push myself longer before I took my first walking break because once I take a walking break it's harder to get myself to run for longer sections. I don't know what's going on with me. I made it half a mile before I took a 30 second walking break. I was huffing and puffing like I'd never run before. I started back up again, but I hadn't run more than a minute when I stopped. I realized that I didn't want to run, wasn't enjoying myself in the slightest, and didn't give a crap. So I stopped running. I finished my walk back home, less than 1.5 miles total, changed out of my running gear, and started a load of laundry. How's that for exciting. I, one of the least enthusiastic housekeepers in history, preferred to do a load of laundry rather than run. Quite truthfully, I am not very thrilled about going to the gym right now either, but I've paid for the training sessions, so I have to go. What evil little worm has gotten into my brain and made me not give a damn about something I've been doing for the last year?