WEATHER: Cool and autumnal and fantastic.
MILES THIS WEEK: Enough.
WHERE TO: Nowhere!
MOOD: SO EXCITED!
News item #1: I AM IN FOR THE BOSTON MARATHON! Eat it, stupid people for whom the website didn’t crash during registration last year. EAT IT. I am going to find you and slap you with a sweaty running singlet. And you will love it.
News item #2: OK, so are you like me, and have you been running with gels in the sports bra, between the boobs? And it causes discomfort and
paper foil cuts? And it sucks? PROBLEM SOLVED: carry them in the side-boobal area. No kidding. I discovered this last weekend. You’re welcome.
So we’re hitting the insane-mileage portion of the ultra training schedule, which means I’m full of aches and pains. Long story short, the more my Achilles tendons feel like snapping, the more I feel like snapping. (People who deal with me: I am so sorry.)
Seeing me limping around, unable to really bend my ankle joints, a friend of mine whom I shall refer to as Ginger asked me, “Uh, why do you keep running?” Now, you see, whenever someone asks me something in the “worried voice,” I usually smile perkily and say something to the effect of “Don’t worry! The moment running starts altering the rest of my life is the moment I stop! Sunshine daisies glitter hummingbirds bullshit! Kablammo!”
And because I sometimes reach with my analogies, I decided that this was the perfect segue into economics and running.