Until tonight I hadn't run an inch in one week and a day, which is totally disappointing because I was on a roll. It's unfortunate that life and drinking and polar plunging and stealing dinner with my parents got in the way of what was once a killer running routine. Between all of that, wasting time on this blog and spending entirely too much time updating my Facebook profile, I completely lost track of my plan to dominate the world in a pair of Brooks.
But tonight I was determined to run. Dammit. (I needed to add that for emphasis). (Because I am emphatic about this). (Is emphatic a word?) (Whatever, it is now).
And then I ate tacos for dinner. Delicious, yes. Good energy food? No. But I didn't care. Come hell or high water, or tacos, apparently, I was getting on that damn treadmill.
Unfortunately it took until about 8:30 tonight to convince myself to take off my sweatpants and slippers and replace them with running gear. But I did it, still full of tacos.
I was only able to plug in a good two miles before the fitness center closed, but it was enough to convince me that I hadn't lost all ability to maintain a decent pace. But I'll tell you what, those tacos did nothing to make the experience any more pleasant.
To keep my mind off my churning stomach, I threw in some hills and speed work. Also a dumb idea on a full stomach, but I never said I was smart. Besides, it helped the time and distance pass.
So I just thought I'd let it be known that no, I have not forgotten how to run. And that I also have about 59 more miles to run in the next nine days, if I want to hit my goal of 100 miles this month. I can tell you right now that that's not going to happen, but shh.
A girl can pretend.