Geesh. You think I could be a grown-up and get out there and do my runs because 1. I crazy love running (I do) 2. it's so good for me and 3. I'm a runner. But no. I actually have to have a race that I'm signed up for to get out there and make it happen.
In the past month, I've run a handful of times. I ran 1.8 miles a few days after pacing my friend Tara at her ultra, I ran twice the following week (3.1 miles a piece), ten days later I ran in the Epilepsy 5K Race with a slow 5k time (31:14). That last run was nine days ago...
I'm feeling flabby fat and lazy...something that my belated honeymoon cruise to Bermuda didn't exactly help with (fancy French food every dinner, full-fat breakfasts, sushi every evening...). Though I had every intention of running while on the cruise - I even said so to Glenn at least twice, "I want to run tomorrow and need to do that in the morning" - still, nothing.
So, I'm finding a fall race and signing up.
Who ever said running was cheaper than a gym membership was dead wrong. Or *WAY* more type A than I am, because I need a goal to push myself towards. Apparently, that goal will either be a race on October 2nd or one November 6th, both of which go through the lolling hills of Lancaster County, past Amish farms and other quaint sights.
I'm looking for my mojo. If you see her, please send her home. I went out this morning and ran around the neighborhood, trying to find her, and I swear, I caught a glimpse of her heels, kicking in high glee just ahead of me fading in and out of the fog as I chased her.