Right now I look a little like this.
This time of year is alternately wonderful and nuts.
Wonderful because the kids are back in school and on a schedule. Nuts because the kids are back in school and on a schedule.
You know the drill.
Homework, mountains of permission slips, medical release forms, room parent information, volunteer sign-up sheets and c-r-a-n-k-y kids. Blah, blah, blah.
So I was kind of glad it was my night to run.
I snuck out of the
looney bin house a few minutes early so I could stop and get a bottle of wine on the way to the track. Not for the running clinic. For after.
Always planning ahead.
And I am really liking the running clinic more and more. Probably because each time I go and run I feel like throwing up less and less. Funny how that works.
Last night was 300 meter sprints. Sprint 300 meters, walk 100—repeat six times. I was kind of getting into it. One of the coaches told me that I should run so hard that when I got to the end of 300 meters I should be saying “Oh thank God that is over”.
However the other coach told me that when I was finished I should be able to carry on a conversation. Conflicting information. What to do?
So I combined the two pieces of advice and had conversations with God the entire time I was sprinting, and then thanked Him when I was done. I’m pretty sure that was not what they had in mind, but hey, get on the same page for cryin’ out loud.
I am assured that following my outlined workout schedule, I will be adequately prepared to run a 5K by late-November.
Which is good since I am running my first 5K ever on Thanksgiving Day.
I am mostly only doing it so I don’t feel guilty eating whatever I darn-well-please for the entire rest of the day. And I figure it might be the last time this fair-weather jogger will make myself run outside until the snow melts.
Which given the way last winter went, could very well be April.