Following the training schedule for my upcoming attempt at breaking my personal best in the 10K, Sunday called for an 8-mile run.
The weather called for rain from sunrise to sunset.
I seriously considered putting in the work on a treadmill until Gina yelled at me for even letting the thought cross my mind.
I ran outside, and I’m glad but wasn’t happy I did it until it was over. Running makes me happy but rain makes me miserable so they basically cancel each other out.
My splits weren’t awful but I can’t break the habit of starting out fast and lagging in the middle.
I’m kinda like a dog when the backdoor opens. He’s so goddam excited to play in the backyard that’s he’s exhausted after the first few minutes.
I’m so pumped being out for a run that I forget “oh yeah, I have at least an hour of this.”
I texted the results to Gina and she replied “we can work with this” which means she’s going to kill me in a workout at some point this week.
I wouldn’t be surprised if I spent the first few miles on a leash.