I couldn't think of a good title for today's entry...
I guess I don't actually hate running, but I hate when I am running. Yesterday was only 5 miles and I use Monday or Tuesday more as a recovery run than anything else. The 15 miles took a lot out of me on Saturday and my body was trying to tell me not to run on Tuesday. At least, I think that's what it was trying to tell me. I'm not really sure though because I rarely listen anyway. I tried running under a 10 minute pace the entire time and walk if I couldn't go at that pace. This is a new concept for me. Typically, I just slow down if I can't keep the faster pace and I end up running slowly for a long time. I think it helped a little. Overall, my time still sucks, but I had to walk for about 5 minutes, and I'm ok with a sucky time at 5:00 in the morning when it is 30 degrees outside...So get off my case.
Last week, a black, ninja-dog scared the crap out of me and Dave. If I didn't have the reflectors on, he never would have seen me. It would have been ninja against ninja. I'm sure my ninja senses would have picked up on him before he jumped against the chain link fence and made me pee myself. No big deal though. The warmth was pleasant and the adrenaline created from being scared sustained me for at least a mile or so. Needless to say, I'm heavily considering shelving the reflectors.
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