Musings on Running

-Last night I accidentally signed up for AthHalf. I was looking for a 4th of July 5K and got sidetracked before I even started. I decided to look at the page that lists all Georgia half marathons for the year, originally in search of the one that goes through my hometown. Looks like it's a no-go for this year, but I noticed AthHalf in October and signed up without thinking it through too hard. I mean, not like there was much to think about. I could have mulled over it and eventually come to the same conclusion, but I generally prefer making rash decisions and making peace with them later. So c'mon fellow UGA grads (the rest of you who wish you were UGA grads are welcome, too). It's not the hilliest campus on the planet - I PROMISE.

-I finally got myself to go out and plunk down some cash for some new running shoes. The thing about running shoes is that 1) you cannot compromise - you just have to spend the money, or your body and your health insurance company will hate you and 2) your choices from an aesthetic standpoint are extremely limited. It's like, "ok, you distribute your weight this way, and your ankles hit the pavement at this sickening of an angle, so here's the shoe you need. Hope you love bright blue!"

I do, actually. I am a tad bit sad to give up my hot pink Mizunos, but alas, after the sticker shock, I know an emergency eBay sale is in order.

-Every time I run, I crave eggs. I oblige and soft-boil a couple eggs for myself in the microwave, and as I eat them, all I can think about is how gross the concept of humans consuming chicken eggs is. Would we ever, EVER take a human bodily secretion, cook it till it's solid, and coat it in salt and pepper? And it's not like snails, which are disgusting and everyone's pretty well aware. These things are consumed in mass quantities! Who, by the way, was the first to say "I bet if I crack a couple chicken fetuses into this batter here, it'll hold my cake together?"

-Now that everyone's come out of hibernation, I often experience that awkward moment when you're coming up behind the completely situationally-unaware pedestrian who still fails to notice you even as you're right up on their ankles. I'm not sure if there's protocol for that, like clearing your throat loudly or yelling something. I usually just get into the street to pass and pray they don't have a finger on the pepper spray trigger.

-The last couple weeks, I've realized that I have enough daylight to run safely before Andy leaves for work in the morning. I've jumped on the opportunity to skip the gym and take it to the streets instead. I've noticed, though, how over the course of those last couple weeks my pace has been slipping. I'm not disciplined enough to do tempo runs, so unfortunately I really need the treadmill for speed work. I went back to it yesterday and wanted to cry, so I had to back up on my speed for part of it. Then, with just 10% of my run left to go, I accidentally smacked the "stop" button. It's like it voided out the first 90%, and I felt like it never even happened.

-Speaking of the treadmill, I hate that thing. HATE it. I understand what a strong word "hate" is, and I reserve for the treadmill the entirety of my ability to feel hate. I hate it more each time I do it. I wish that the treadmill could feel pain so that I could inflict copious amounts upon it.