And, I feel terrible that I'm about to disappoint you.
It's been a week since my last run. After my too-long-private-chafing adventure last week, I haven't been out since. Not because I've been hurt. Actually, the minor chafing didn't bother me at all the following couple days as I golfed, drank, and cornholed my way through the 20th Annual Mid-Michigan Drunkfest. Complete with commemorative koozie, by the way.
Then, a couple late work nights and a couple nights playing with my neglected kids. Get up early, you say? No, I don't do morning runs other than my races. Too often, they end in a potty emergency.
No running = limited material for writing about in a running blog. Kind of problematic.
When I first started writing this blog, I had stockpiled a couple ideas for topics to talk about in the inevitable downtimes as I knew I would not get out 3 or 4 times per week. I got about 700 words into one of them, about the origin of my running mantra, but then realized it would probably be boring to the vast majority of the world, except those who loved the TV show Lost. If I ever publish a post called "Walkabout", you'll know I was either desparate for material or found a better angle to approach it from.
For any Lost-ophiles, here is a walk down memory lane:
"Don't tell me what I can't do!"
You are damn right, John Locke.
According to my very fluid training schedule, this weekend is my 10 mile training run. As good as I felt last week, I am very much looking forward to getting out this weekend and clearing my head. It's amazing how torturing your body can clear your mind. Everything seems to make sense mid-run. I've done some of my best thinking recently (I know, it's a small population to draw from) out on the road.
I'll let you know how it goes.
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