99 days
Yesterday was the 100 day mark. Only 100 days until ToughMan Indiana. Only 100 days until this overweight, middle aged, unathletic body will swim over a mile, bike 56 and run 13.1. All in one day.
Holy crap.
So this morning means that there are only 99 days left.
Holy crap.
But I've been told I got this. I am going to choose to believe those fools that keep telling me that.
This weekend I went running by myself in the snow again. And when I say "by myself," I of course mean at least 1/4 mile behind the Running Group, as is my standard place. I'm used to it. I'm not bitter or sad. And this weekend I actually had company.
I'm not quite sure who this shoe print belongs to, but it was my friend and kept me company for the first 2 1/2 miles of my run. I am guessing it was a person whose fear of shiny snow matches my own, as they kept to the far left of the road in the slightly crunchy, not yet snow packed shoulder. I also believe that this was probably a guy or a very tall woman, because the one time I tried to match the stride, I almost broke into the splits. There was a brief section around 1 1/2 miles where someone's waffle-y patterned shoe covered over the the prints, but I could still make them out. So it meant that my shoe print friend was probably in the front part of the pack.
When I took walk breaks, the shoe print told me to get moving again. Which I did, because it was a very authoritative shoe print.
When I stopped in awe to take this picture of the sunrise over a snow covered field, my shoe print friend did not judge, but stood there while I attempted to get my phone back into my Spi-Belt.
When I had reached the 2 mile mark, where I had originally planned to turn around, my shoe print friend said "Come on girl...you can do 5!" So I did.
When I got to 2 1/2 miles, I reluctantly waved goodbye to my shoe print friend and turned around for the run back. Sadly, a snow plow had come along so the road no longer had that runner-friendly, slightly-crunchy, not-yet-snow-packed shoulder, so the fear of falling returned. But I persevered. I kept going. And since the road was in an area with a number of Amish families, I marvelled at horse-shoe prints in the snow and dodged...well...the stuff that you need to dodge when there are a number of Amish families living along the road.
It was a good run. Nowhere near the 13.1 I will need to put in 99 days from now. But it was filled with new imaginary friends, a beautiful sunrise and most of all...joy.
Holy crap.
So this morning means that there are only 99 days left.
Holy crap.
But I've been told I got this. I am going to choose to believe those fools that keep telling me that.
This weekend I went running by myself in the snow again. And when I say "by myself," I of course mean at least 1/4 mile behind the Running Group, as is my standard place. I'm used to it. I'm not bitter or sad. And this weekend I actually had company.
When I took walk breaks, the shoe print told me to get moving again. Which I did, because it was a very authoritative shoe print.
When I stopped in awe to take this picture of the sunrise over a snow covered field, my shoe print friend did not judge, but stood there while I attempted to get my phone back into my Spi-Belt.
When I had reached the 2 mile mark, where I had originally planned to turn around, my shoe print friend said "Come on girl...you can do 5!" So I did.
When I got to 2 1/2 miles, I reluctantly waved goodbye to my shoe print friend and turned around for the run back. Sadly, a snow plow had come along so the road no longer had that runner-friendly, slightly-crunchy, not-yet-snow-packed shoulder, so the fear of falling returned. But I persevered. I kept going. And since the road was in an area with a number of Amish families, I marvelled at horse-shoe prints in the snow and dodged...well...the stuff that you need to dodge when there are a number of Amish families living along the road.
Obligatory Middle of a Snow Field Selfie |
Comments
Post a Comment