The best part about having a terrible run,
is that it's most likely followed by a fantastic one.
Today I woke up to the sun shining,
not a cloud in the sky,
35 degree weather,
and the ambition to take on my long run a little early.
I didn't want to compromise my Valentine's night.
I have a date with a bottle of wine and Congressman Underwood.
My husband will likely be around too.
I don't take long runs lightly.
I like to eat a good meal the night before.
I concentrate on hydration.
I ensure that I have food and drink for recovery.
I have my clothes laid out.
iPod charged.
Running purely on Cabernet Sauvignon is probably not a smart idea.
SO, today was the day.
It started off perfectly chilly,
and by mile 3 I was taking off my wind breaker.
By mile 5 off came the long-sleeve.
I was running in a tank top.
In February.
It SNOWED yesterday.
It was magical.
I even noticed that my arms were looking more like arms and not marshmallows.
Dozens of neighbors were out walking their dogs and pushing their babies.
Smiles and waves.
Even the mail people were happy and smiling.
I even got a little hoot from the lawn man.
Everyone was being so friendly.
I thought to myself, "This may be the best run there ever was!"
That's when I noticed that my nursing pads were sticking out of my top.
The word embarrassment doesn't even begin to cover how I felt.
No wonder everyone was so giddy.
Luckily enough, I remedied this issue before I ran into my husband's best friend.
But other than that small, weird hiccup,
I had a seriously beautiful run.
10 miles are in the bank for the day.
24 for the week.
Boston in 67 days!
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