After a day off from lumbering to take care of the lawn and staying out of the way of the road pavers, I was back in the woods Friday morning for a “run.”
I had a shit night of sleep, but after a cup of coffee and several “movements,” I somehow forced myself out the door as the sun rose.
As I hurled Escape II (Electric Boogaloo) down the road, I cued up some Danzing on the Hi-Fi. Nothing helps me enjoy casually flipping off lawns filled with Trump flags and signs1 like some good old fashion metal crooning. And no one croons like Glenn! Or, for that matter, me when I’m behind the wheel with 20 ounces of coffee and hate coursing through my veins along with 5 miles of future punishment in my head.
I needed that extra boost, too, because while my legs felt good starting, I was in a constant battle with my mind on whether my attempts at running are awesome or the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever done.
As with Tuesday’s run, I started and ended well with mile times under 12 minutes, but those middle miles with the climbs are killing me, and miles 3 and 4 came in at a slow 12 minutes each. Somehow (Danzig?) I dug deep on mile 5 and ran a 10:41 to complete the “run” in 58:03.
It wasn’t pretty, not in the least bit, but I did it. The leaves really fuck with my eyes, as does the prospect of tripping and hurling my ass to the ground by tripping over hidden rocks or roots, but again, I did it, and some days that’s all you can ask of yourself.
I still need 4.75 miles over the next two days to hit my 25-mile weekly goal. I hope I can push myself out for more, especially since next week, I potentially have jury duty and may have to get creative with my schedule. Fingers crossed, my number isn’t called! Er, I mean, I’m happy to do my part for the judicial system.
Photos were taken earlier this week.
Later.
THE SOILED SOUND TRACK OF THE POST