Eight milesJuly 19, 2004
I can NOT get over that. The first two miles were horrible, as they usually are, and then the next six were a breeze. I mean it. We’re doing a 3:1 pace right now in my group (run three minutes, walk one), and it just felt right. I didn’t mind running when the walk breaks were over (nor did I mind the walk breaks, heavens, no).
It was dark in San Francisco yesterday morning – that deep heavy fog that drips like rain. But at least it was cool. It’s been too warm here in Oakland recently, and it can’t have even hit eighty. I’m such a heat light-weight. (And I want to run a marathon in Hawaii?) And Bethany was a water volunteer, so twice I got to see her smiling proud face, which the run even easier.
The shin splints were uncomfortable, but they’re feeling better already today, always a good sign. It’s going to be an aqua-jog week, unfortunately.
Eight miles. Wheee! And yet, only about a third of how far I’m gonna have to go. Holy crap.
Bethany’s knocking about the apartment, talking and singing, so I’m laughing at her rather than thinking of coherent, clever sentences. (I can’t believe she hijacked my blog! And the perm was bad, yeah. But thank god she didn’t mention the bifocals I was wearing at age six. Oh. Whoops.) And Kira and Rachel just arrived on my doorstep and we’re headed out for Ethiopian, so I’ll just blow you a kees. Mwah!