All right, chickadees.
You’ll be relieved (or at least I am, anyway) to know that I dragged myself home at a reasonable time last night, laced up my sneakers, and took off into the wilderness.
And by wilderness, I mean Wrigleyville after a Cubs’ game.
It’s a jungle out there, chicks.
Especially when it’s only the end of April and we’re already playing worse than the Astros.
Baseball season has never been so long, my friend.
Four miles was on my schedule, and four miles is what I completed, at about a 9:30 pace.
I’ll take that one, and make sure I concentrate on slowing it down Saturday morning.
The actual act of moving my legs, one in front of the other, seems to have calmed my nerves about this weekend just.a.tiny.bit.
Also I have now confirmed that my playlist is kickass enough to take me 13.1 miles.
Maybe even 13.2.
But let’s not push it.
Tonight I’m gonna jog another three miles, since I think the trick to all of this is reminding myself that I know how to run.
I’ve also decided (later than I should have) that it’s time to can the alcohol and french fries and try to put some more quality items into my body pre-race.
I’m hoping the sushi I ordered last night counts.
It was either that or some suspect items hanging out in the back of my fridge.
I think I made the right call there.
And now, I’m off to take in this day. Have a good one, chickens!