After officially getting out of the snow and stitches Lauren and I are back with a vengeance. In fact, we ran/completed 9 miles on Sunday! I must say that I have not been this sore in a while. In fact, the last time I was this sore I was trying out for lacrosse in high school. It's the kind of sore where you lower yourself halfway down to the toilet, then release praying the rest of the way down that:
a) the plopping sound your bare butt makes will not permanently scar some freshman/co-worker too much
b) you don't miss.
9 miles! That's only one mile less than the insane race we signed up for that sparked the majority of this blog! Now I know that I can do it. I did not die doing 9 miles, therefor I can do one more. Well, this weekend I could have done one more mile. Last weekend was a different story all together.
I was at my in-laws house and luckly they have a treadmill in front of TV. I promised myself on the trip down that I would give the 9 miles I was due a try. All the while I was thinking (quietly to myself so my other personalities did not hear) "4 miles is just as good as 9 miles, right? Make the lines a little curvier and you have a 9." No? Anyone? Jerks.
I told my in laws immediately what I had planned so they could hold me to it. And that they did! I ended up completing the mileage but it was NOT pretty. My body was just not having it, not for one second. My legs felt like there were sticky finger, ankle biting kids around them. My lungs you ask? Oh I would liken that feeling to wearing a laced up corset. A corset made for Scarlett O'Hara.
I FINALLY finished the 9 miles in the time it would take my grandmother to understand and appreciate the purpose of twitter. I am not kidding when I say it took forever! I am sure you are thinking... "well my goodness! By now, she has been training for five months. She writes ALL the time about her running triumphs, surely it was not that bad."
HA! Just ask my father-in-law. Why you ask?
Allow me to set the scene:
Sitting at the dinner table after my run, I was trying to stay on the conversational side of consciousness. At some point during the meal someone, somewhere said something about my run, to which my lovely father-in-law asked, "Oh, so you did run part of it? I thought you walked it all."
I was about to cry, laugh, and slip out of my chair under the table, all at the same time when I decided to take the less dramatic route. I said nothing to my father-in-law but rather looked at my husband and with my eyes bulging out of their fat laden eyelids I mouthed, "DID I RUN?!??!?!?!?!?"
At least this week it would be hard for him to deny that I ran 'part' of it. I finished in under 2 hours. And if you follow my blog (pretend to follow my blog... just for a minute? Thank you) you may remember that is well below 2:39:35. WOOT WOOT!
So... to end the blog, I will leave you with a bit of exciting news!
I am officially signed up for..............
THE MARINE CORPS HISTORIC HALF MARATHON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Uh... double up uh uh! [rap reference, Mom]