I planned on running a tempo 8-10 miler yesterday, but life (in various formats) said, "How 'bout you just settle for a 3 miler with Parsenn? Hmmm? Oh yeah, and I'll bring the wrath if you try to squeeze in an hour of running in spite of my warnings."
So I obliged. Things are busy and I don't see that ending any time, so I'll make due when I can. I really think I ought to just quit the day job and husband duties and run full time. Any thoughts, Ellie?
So, anyway, I ran a hilly and windy 8 miler tonight instead of last night with the plan of keeping it at or below marathon pace. Result: 8 miles, 57 minutes. Now it's off to a meeting without showering or even applying deoderant. Luckily these guys greet me every time they see me, no matter where it is, with "Did you run here?"
They don't get it, but at the same time, they get it. Make sense?