Yesterday I tried my hand at another run, making it about 3.5 miles on the treadmill before resorting to an incline walk approach.
In addition, things were looking up because I cranked up the speed a little bit.
This is an improvement over two weeks ago, when I was holding on for dead life and furiously powering down the treadmill.
I mean, there was maybe still a little bit of that.
But not as much. And at a faster pace.
I was feeling good.
And then I noticed the man next to me was running sub-7 minute miles, and that he appeared to be approaching mile 10.
Motivational or demoralizing?
I haven’t quite decided yet.
This morning, building off of last night’s success, I woke up at 5:45 to meet CJ at the pool.
I put my ID in my pocket, since I’ve misplaced my Y card.
I walked outside and reached into my pocket for my iPod, and noticed that my ID wasn’t in there.
Must have left it at home, I figured, so I scurried back up the stairs.
I threw some things around for a couple minutes, confusing and horrifying JW, who watched as I tore our kitchen counter to pieces in two seconds and then stamped down the stairs.
Luckily, the Y woman realized that only a crazy person would awake before dawn to try to smuggle herself into the Y uninvited, so she let me into the pool.
And I swam for a half hour, concentrating on St. Anthonys and figuring the damn thing had to be somewhere.
I felt calmer.
But upon getting home, the ID is still on the lamb.
And I’m officially without a photo ID.
Apparently one of my new strengths is losing things in a single bound.
Or something like that.
Anyway, I’m off to continue the search, get ready for Thursday (so close to the weekend), and think about how I’m going to gain access to the Y without any identification.
Wish me luck, kids.