And just like that, we’re at Friday again.
Chickens, this summer’s moving fast, if you ask me.
Last night, I headed to Lincoln Park to participate in the Bastille Day 8k race.
I was untrained.
Also, unprepared, as it turned out.
My running bottoms had a hole in them that I didn’t notice until I pulled them on.
Okay, that’s a lie.
There were two holes.
In addition, I forgot my watch, which is essentially my very reliable, very trusted pacemaker.
Things were getting off to a rocky start before I even hit gear check.
However, since I’m no quitter (read: incredibly stubborn), I headed to the start line anyway.
And I felt slightly better.
I like the running crowd. These are my people, I breathed to myself, as I lined up with a bunch of people wearing neon race shirts from various other events.
Then the gun sounded and we started the race.
And my people left me in the dust.
Overall, the distance was tough for me, which again, is because I’ve let my training drop off over the past couple of months. It probably would have made more sense to start with a 5k (although when I signed up for the race, I was in significantly better shape), but the fact that I finished without keeling over on the finish line is going to have to be enough for me out of this year’s Bastille Day.
That and the fact that 3-a-week running starts for me on Monday.
It’s time to get back at it, chickadees.
And now, I’m off to my cubicle, and then, thankfully, to a lovely weekend on the lake. Enjoy the sunshine, and the weekend, my friends!