making good and falling down.

Good morning, chickadees!

You’ll be happy to know that I finally bit the bullet yesterday morning and got myself through a training run.

Albiet, one of my short runs for the week (4.5 miles), but I’ll take it. Especially considering my allergy meds didn’t kick in until the third mile.

There’s nothing like a stuffed up, sinus-pressured, blurry eyed run to get you going in the morning.

Today I’m facing down the 7 mile run, and I’m a little concerned. 7 miles is basically my mental block. 6 miles, well that’s not so bad, but 7 miles? 

That’s just crazy.

Which brings me to this:

What exactly do I think of 13.1?

Luckily, I have a month to draw some conclusions about that one.

Also last night, I did another long-ish yoga segment, which basically stretched out every ligament that running threw out of whack.

I love you running, I do. But you’re tough on my legs.

Anyway, the yoga was fairly successful, with the toughest moment coming when Ky looked up at the screen and said “I just don’t get this knees, chest, chin thing he keeps talking about.”

“Fall on your knees, your chest, and your chin- I mean, it’s pretty self explanatory” I shot back, as I flopped to the ground in a decidedly un-yoga-like fashion.

Belly laughing ensued.

Cores were engaged, so I don’t even badly about missing the move.

Post yoga, we threw together what were maybe the messiest lettuce wraps I’ve ever put together, using soy chorizo from TJ’s (the bomb, in case you’re wondering), peppers, onions, and corn.

They were awesome.

Cheese, sour cream, and salsa make everything a little bit better, in my estimations.

Up today is another summer-like day in the office topped off by the aforementioned, looming 7-mile run.

I’ll report back.

If I can still type.

Have a good one, chickens!

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1 Comment

Filed under Chicago, Did I really do that?, Running, Things that are delicious, Weather

One response to “making good and falling down.

  1. Good luck on the 7-miler! In the actual race, it seems to be around 7 or 8 where I hit a funk. It lasts usually about a mile where I just want to quit and never run again. Meh.

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