I’ve turned into a stickler for running/workout schedules.

Too bad, because this was the perfect morning to run.

I was never this inflexible. I used to be the girl who would pack a suitcase and take off on a trip in less than an hour. Drop all plans to do something spontaneous. Lace up even if I had run four other days in a row just because it was the perfect day to run.

What happened?

I suppose part of this sticking to a running routine is a result of past overuse injuries, such as hamstring tendonitis a few years ago, which left me out of my running shoes for a month.

Part of this is due to training, too. When I trained only for running races, I could run on whatever day I wanted. I ran four or five days a week, but the days didn’t really matter as long as I fit in the run.

Now that I’ve added triathlon training, I need to squeeze in swimming and cycling, too. If I run on a day I should be doing something else, or on a rest day, then I either have to give up the bike or pool or double up on workouts; I don’t want to do the former, and I don’t have time to do the latter.

This morning I woke to a gorgeous running day. Blustery, windy, cool, misty. The PERFECT day for a run. But I’d run two days in a row, and I knew my muscles needed a rest. I considered a bike ride, but, again, wanted my hamstrings to have a cooling off day.

So I opted for indoor pilates and yoga instead.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy those two activities; I actually love them.

Still, there’s something about lacing up when it is a certain temperature, when there is a certain feel in the air, that I just can’t get from doing exercises inside.

Today is rest day. I stuck to it, although, I’ll admit, hesitantly.

Do you stick to your rest day schedule, or, if the perfect running day comes along, do you chuck the schedule out the window and, shall I say, run with it?

Or when I see those posts that say running can’t be fun; have you ever seen a runner smiling? (I smile a lot when I run, by the way! Some may say I look like a crazy person!)

Running is probably one of the most beautiful things, aside from marriage and babies, I’ve ever done.

I’ve run through numerous states, over a variety of landforms: hills, valleys, rocks, grass, sand.

I’ve run up mountains and down mountains; along the beach and past fields of flowers.

I’ve run in places I would forget if not for the specific running memories, like the small town in Utah that smelled so sweetly of wildflowers, and the snow-covered back country streets of West Virginia, where I prepared for my first-ever 5K.

I’ve run during sunrises and sunsets.

I’ve run in rain, in snow, in wind, and, once because I was mildly stupid, a small hurricane.

I’ve run through mental pains, like when my close friend died, my aunt died and my mother had a stroke.

I ran my first half marathon to commemorate a miscarriage at eleven  weeks, an event that left me devastated. At each mile marker of that race, I said goodbye to the baby I never got to hold.

On some of these runs the tears and heaping gulps of frustration stopped me, doubled me over; and when they did, I looked out over wherever I was – ocean or country, hills or flatlands -  and I thought, Wow. Life is beautiful.

All runners understand the beauty that rests in nothing but the feet and the mind. It’s tangible.

I can’t imagine living my life without it.

I had two excellent birthday runs this weekend. Both were beautiful; just see for yourself:

For the 12th year in a row.

It has gotten much easier, hitting that 3rd decade of my life. I’ve learned to take the milestone in stride. You realize, twelve years after, how much it really doesn’t matter. Life goes on. Things change. I’ve had a few kids, and we got a dog. We own a house rather than renting a cramped (but super cute) condo in Pasadena.

I’ve run two marathons. Completed a triathlon. Jogged endless 5Ks, 10Ks and halfs.

I’ve learned since turning thirty the first time to listen to my body if it is in pain. That doesn’t mean I accept it gracefully; I just listen more these days, and I take a break as needed.

I’ve learned it’s not so much the race but the participation in that matters. I could run through Florida or California, Georgia or Alabama, and it wouldn’t matter. What would matter would be that I enjoyed it. Soaked it all up. Got the medal at the finish line, regardless of my time.

I’ve learned PRs are cool, but that’s not all there is. I can be the slowest in the pack and enjoy it the most. That’s fine by me.

I’ve learned aging means understanding the difference between pushing through the pain and then not running for six weeks; or stopping, icing, resting and lacing back up in seven days.

I’ve learned to run just to run.

I’d say over the past 12 years of turning thirty, I’ve learned a hell of a lot!

—

That said, I started triathlon training this week. I figured out a schedule I believe will work while reducing the stress on my body that happened last year. I got back into the pool today, and all in all it was a good swim. 25 minutes, three laps at a time before a rest.

My only problem, and I know this is something I’ll need to deal with sooner rather than later – after swimming, I took the girls in, and because I wasn’t technically exercising, I experienced Raynauds. (Don’t know what that is? Fun little issue when your body temp drops and the blood stops circulating to your extremities.)This just started a few years ago, and only in my right pointer finger and right heel. This year it has moved a bit, and today it happened for the first time ever in my right thumb.

And I didn’t even feel that cold!

Pooey. Not sure what to do about this. I want to continue to swim, but it’s dangerous to allow it to happen often or for long periods of time. I certainly don’t want to give up swimming because of it.

Will I look like a total dork if I wear some type of gloves for warmth, so my fingers don’t turn white and then purple?

Yes, but turning 30 for 12 years has taught me I don’t give a crap how much of a dork I resemble, as long as I’m happy, safe and having a good time.

So guess I’ll be purchasing some gloves.

I hope I can run a few races and participate in a few triathlons this birthday year.

But I really hope that when I turn 30 next year, for the 13th year in a row, I can look back on this year and say how great it was!

My daughter has a new game she enjoys playing. It goes something like this:

Daughter: Mom? Would you rather have a bad lawn guy who makes our lawn all brown or have a bird poop on your head?

Me: Um, bad lawn guy, for sure.

Daughter: (Seeming very surprised by my answer) Reallllllly?

We play this game at least once a day with her tossing out odd scenarios and me trying to determine if I’d want a bird to poop on my head (okay, so it has happened once, and I’m guessing that was the catalyst for this game) or if I’d want something equally terrible to happen.

This morning as I sloshed through an incredibly humid 12 mile run, I asked myself this question:

Me: Kathy, would you rather run 26.2 miles or have a bird poop on your head?

I have to say, in the first three miles, the bird won.

It was hot and humid out today. It felt as though I were running in a wet jogging suit, and it didn’t get better until mile four or so.

I’m not sure what finally ‘broke’ my mood and let me start enjoying the run. It wasn’t that it cooled down any. It wasn’t that something hurt and then suddenly stopped. I slogged through the first four thinking I should turn around and go home, but, at some point, I started to have a really great time.

And my answer changed to 26.2.

It’s funny how your running perspective can change in the span of just miles (and, sometimes, steps).

I can recall training for my first and second marathons and getting to mile 16, at which point I was miserable. Mile 16 was my wall. It took a few miles to push through that. The little head in my voice was telling me to go home, to throw in the towel, that I could never do it.

And then I would get it done.

You can start off a run feeling like, well, bird doo, and you can catch a wind that turns the run around.

Or you can start off feeling like a million bucks and something can happen that makes you want to pack it in and go home.

Today, I’m not sure what it was that changed. Maybe imagining myself crossing the finish line in a few months. Maybe my thoughts about staying healthy. Or maybe the fact that the humidity seemed to die down a bit and I could smell the sea salt on the air.

What turns your thoughts around when you’re having a bad run? What makes you choose 26.2 (or 3.1, or 13.1, or a sprint triathlon) over a bird pooping on your head?

Total for the day: 12 miles. I have one more high mileage week, including a 24 or so mile cycle and a 14 mile run; then, following my 2/1 plan, I’ll bump down to half or seventy-five percent of my leg mileage.

I’ve been doing a lot of treadmill training this summer. In the beginning, I dreaded it. Apparently I’m not the only one, because many runners I ask call it the Dreadmill, after emitting a huge sigh.

The idea of running like a hamster in a wheel drove me crazy. I woke up and instead of thinking Yes! I get to run today! I thought Oh shit, not another trip to the gym to run on the mill.

My gym offers three treadmills with televisions, so best case scenario was getting there early enough to score one of those mills so I could watch some trashy talk show, like Jerry Springer (yes, I did) or Jersey Shore (uh huh, I tuned in). Worse case: TVs were taken and I was stuck watching whatever news show happened to be on one of the other four TVs.

I went a few times. I found it wasn’t so bad. And then, to my surprise, I began to actually enjoy the mill.

I found the mill was a bit more delicate on my legs. I have issues with my hamstrings regardless of how much I roll, massage, and stretch. The mill seems to be a bit more forgiving with each stride.

Also, I worked harder on the mill. I don’t know why, but for some reason staring down at the pace I was running kept me wanting to run faster. I have a Garmin. I can stare down at it when I want. But on the mill, I don’t want to see myself running slower than a 6.3, so I set it there and force myself to go faster, harder, for longer. And over time, my pace has improved.

This weekend while on vacation I had a chance to run outside for the first time in several weeks. I did two miles outside, then headed into the fitness room where we were staying and ran another few. I finished up outside with a few more miles, and then I contemplated the difference between the two runs.

On the road, I ran more leisurely. Enjoyed the scenery. Took it easier on my body. Found myself not caring so much about my pace.

On the mill, I jacked up the speed. Couldn’t go lower than 6.3. Had to hit the incline button a few times. Had to push it harder.

On the road, I really felt each footstep’s impact, each strike, each jar of the pavement. The pavement felt hard beneath my feet.

On the mill, I felt the give in the belt as it turned. It was an easier, softer run, at least when it came to the pounding my feet were taken.

Outside, I felt a faster pace was more difficult than it was on the mill. I am guessing this is due to the forward motion of the belt on the mill versus the nonmovement on the pavement. Outside, I had to really push to go faster, to hold a faster pace.

Inside, I got bored.

Outside, I didn’t.

I believe the key to my future running plans is to continue to use both in training.

I feel the treadmill can probably make me a stronger, faster runner, because I want to perform harder when stationary.

Outside, I see the beauty in running. Hear my footfalls, listen to the birds, see the sunrise, and understand that running is not only an exercise but a way to meditate. A way to live.

They are two different runs, and I feel from now on I will need them both to improve and enjoy running.

Where do you run the most, and which do you prefer? And why?

Welcome to my blog, MamaMarathoner.

My name is Kathy, and I am a runner. (“Hi, Kathy!”)

Today’s post will not be like my usual rants.

I won’t waste time telling you how stupid it is to skip rest days (can you spell T-E-N-D-O-N-I-T-I-S? I can, because I refused to skip rest days for a while) or how important it is that you put food into your body if you want to work it to its optimum level.  (You know that kind of stuff already. I can tell.)

I won’t tell you I slept like crap last night because both kids crawled into bed with me and turned their adorable little bodies until I had toes in my nostrils and knees jabbing my lower back in the form of a really bad sports massage.  (You know, the kind that leaves you bruised and aching the next morning.)

Nor will I moan about staring at the clock from 2AM until 4AM after they woke me, begging sleep to hurry up and rescue me so I’d feel rested for this morning’s pre-coffee, pre-breakfast, pre-get-the-kids-up-make-them-breakfast-entertain-them-for-five-hours-feed-them-lunch-entertain- them-for-seven-more-hours-before-falling-into-bed 7 miler. (You don’t want some whiny, cranky mom along for your 200 mile journey, now do you?)

No. Today I will answer the age-old question I get asked nearly every single day I proclaim my love for running to someone who never laces up a pair of running shoes:

“So, what’s chasing you?” (Read with a southern accent since I’m living in the south now.)

I might jokingly answer, “Twelve-hours-of-playing-Barbies brain,” or, “My kids are acting like it’s a full moon.” Or, on a really bad day, I might sigh and say, “Pure Insanity.” (Yes, both words capitalized, because, sometimes, that is how it feels.)

I might chuckle and roll my eyes, leaving these gestures as my only answer.

Or I might ignore the question and change the subject altogether.

But for some reason, I never tell those with the inquiring minds my real answer – the answer I think of every single time my foot hits the blacktop and I’m watching the sun rise over the marsh waters as the bats head back home for the day:

I’m not running from something; I’m running to it.

And what is it?

That’s a great question, Nuun. I’m glad you asked.

It is simple, but it is not simple at all.

It is something I can explain to you if I try (see below), but it is something you really need to experience for yourself.

It is beauty. It is the smell of salty marsh air mixing with my sweat and the sound of leaves rustling in the woods as I cruise past, creating my own rhythmic music with each footfall, each strike of my heel. (Okay, I’m trying to run more in the mid-point, but you get my understanding.)

It is watching the sun come up or go down, watching the world turn a bit more on its axis, and understanding that I am just a small speck of dust leaving beautiful footprints on something much bigger than I will ever be.

It is strength. It is understanding I can’t, for the life of me, understand how my body can carry me 26.2 miles and survive – and yet it does. It is knowing I can train four, five, six days a week. Push my body. Test my muscles. Each new run becomes a milestone, each upcoming race a challenge that I complete. My body pushing hard, my lungs pushing harder, until I think I might collapse; but I never do. I’ve birthed two babies. I’ve run 26.2 miles. I am strong.

It is in brain power. It is knowing that more than my Garmin, my shoes, and my cute little sports bras I love to show off, my mind is my most powerful running tool I have. My brain tells me I can when I don’t think it’s possible. My brain understands that as I stand at the starting line full of self-doubt I will go out there when the clock begins and I will do it. Finish the race.

My brain is there when my heart freezes with fear as soon as active.com sends my race confirmation; and then, with a deep breath, my brain reminds me, “It’s going to be okay.”

And it is my brain that is responsible for changing my thinking around mile two on a particularly bad run day. It’s my brain that says, “Stop whining about running and be grateful that you can.”

It is getting up and going.

Beating the excuses.

Killing the critics.

And crossing the finish line one step at a time. Every. Single. Time.

And to what would I be running if I participated in the Hood to Coast Challenge?

The same things I run to every single day.

The beauty of running somewhere new. Of seeing a part of the country I’ve never seen. Of watching the sun tickle the top of Mt. Hood and splash across the Pacific Ocean.

The strength of knowing I can handle a challenge that includes travel, meeting a new group of women bloggers, little sleep, running in a race different from any other that I’ve ever run, and crossing the  finish line fatigued but elated, my body stronger than ever.

And the brain power to know that as I type this I do have doubts and fears just as I do with all potential races (too little sleep? running a relay? running on hills? meeting new people? traveling that far? leaving my family behind for a weekend? not having my morning cup of coffee before I run?) but that if I am chosen, when I lace up my shoes to run, I will do it.

I’m not running away from something.

I’m running to it.

And I will never, ever stop.

Sincerely,

Kathy (aka MamaMarathoner)

First, always buy proper shoes. Don’t just throw anything on your feet and hope they work – they won’t. Go to a specialty store and pay $100 on a good pair.

Second, take rest days. So many people I know think training harder is key, but after time your body will give out if you don’t let it rest.

Thirdly, you’ll probably have to go to the bathroom at some point along the long run route, so choose the places in advance where you’d feel comfortable stopping. (Thanks, McDonalds on Magnolia Street in Huntington Beach, for those early morning pit stops!)

I’ve also learned this: If you believe you can achieve it, you can. Which is probably why I just, on National Running Day, signed up for the Savannah Rock and Roll Marathon on November 5!

Oh. My. Gosh. What have I just done?

I’ve run two marathons in my lifetime. The first went well; the second, not so much. I hurt my hamstring at mile 18 and walked the last five miles. I cried. A lot. I was in the happiest place on Earth, Disney, and felt crummy. All that training, for what?

Looking back, I know exactly what I had done wrong. Yes, I put in the training, the miles. But I didn’t take care of myself outside of that. I didn’t slow down when I needed. I didn’t get massages or foam roll my legs. I didn’t stretch after most runs, and I ran too much, too frequently, too hard, while not allowing my body to rest.

So this time around I’ll be doing things a bit differently, as I’ve taken steps in the past year of training to reduce my chances for injury and increase my running efficiency and speed at the same time.

These are:

1. Listen – and follow the directions set forth by – to my body. In the past I would run because that is what was on the schedule. Hard day but legs felt tight? Too bad, I pushed through it – and then paid for it the next day. Now I slow down. I listen. I know that on Tuesdays I have a speed workout, but Mondays are an average to longer run. If I feel too tired, I skip the speed workout and try to add in some fartleks and say that is that. You can’t push, push, push, and expect all to stay good.
2. Regular massages. Sounds like an indulgence, but if you are serious about running you should find a sports masseuse serious about massage. I try to get one at least once, if not twice, each month, following my longer/harder runs. Since I have reoccurring hamstring issues, which also affect my knee (tendonitis), I have her work on this area – and any others, like my IT band or sciatic – that may be bothering me. I always leave a bit achy but, by the next day, the pain is gone.
3. Foam roller. I discovered this beautiful tool after my bad Disney marathon experience, the one in which I wound up with tendonitis of my hamstring. Since, I have been through three of them. I use them daily, sometimes two times a day. I use it every time I run. I roll my hamstrings and calves, and I have found that if I have an ache after running – let’s say the outside of my foot hurts – I can roll out my calf and it feels better. Almost instantly, in fact. Go online, to Amazon, and pick a good foam roller, not the cheap kind found in sports stores. You need something hard that will get the kinks out. It hurts, yes, but it works at the same time.
4. Running more is not always key. Some people believe to achieve great running results you have to run five, six times a week. Not true. I have found for me four days is best. I can’t do five – I get hurt. I use the fifth day for swimming, a great cardio exercise that keeps my heart going at the rate I need it but that is less taxing on the legs, knees, and joints. I do a long run day, a mid long run day, an interval day, and a speed day. On my longer runs, I generally keep my pace slower, though once every two to three weeks I will choose a longer run day and push it so I can see what I can do. So far, so good.
5. I don’t back up two long runs. I no longer do a long run on Sat. and follow it by running on Sun. I take Sunday off. I have found my body can’t handle a long run followed by  any other kind of run – I hurt too much. So, I’ve learned how best to schedule my running days; and I have done this by listening to my body!

So, we will see how training goes for Savannah. My only real concern is the heat. I will be in training in the southern humidity and heat and I have not trained in this kind of weather for such a long race. I feel I have acclimated to this climate over the past two and a half years, so I believe my body can tolerate it – I will just be going slower than normal, which, I have learned to accept, is okay (and even important at times!)

Today’s agenda: On National Running Day I signed up for Savannah but today is my cross training day so I will do weights, core, planks, and half an hour of swimming laps in the pool.

Happy Running!

Prior to distance running this choice would have been made long before now. Now that i do at least 10 on the weekends, it’s not as difficult. I know I can do the distance, but what has happened? I almost feel like ‘what’s the point of running a race?’

For one thing, I have to battle traffic. I have to go down a day early to pick up my packet, which means shuffling the kids an hour each way and walking around a large, overcrowded convention center where I would like to pick up things and shop but where, likely, I’ll be battling two toddlers in tow.

The race means getting up super-early on Sunday morning prior, as i would have to drive an hour and get a shuttle by 6 to get to the starting line, where I would likely end up standing around for at least an hour wondering why I couldn’t have just found a closer parking space to begin with.

Of course the race also means money. $95 to register, gas down and back twice, and the items I want to purchase at the convention, which will be a T-shirt and possibly some new socks. Oh, and a bumper sticker; i have my 26.2 one, so I need to balance it out with a 13.1 one.

The payoff? Freedom of running with others who love to run. Excitement and energy and people calling my name. That doesn’t happen when I do 13 miles around my neighborhood. I’m lucky to pass anyone that early in the morning! I enjoy the crowds that come to watch, and knowing that other people are watching me thinking they would like to do that one day. You can’t beat a great race.

Which is why I will battle parking, my wallet,the kids at the convention, and a slew of other obstacles to cross the finish line in Jacksonville next Sunday.

I’m going to sign up now, before I change my mind!

I’m turning the big 4-0 next week.

This has been a hard confession.

I’ve ignored it, screamed about it, had a few too many glasses of vino as I reflected on it.

I’ve told my kids I’m turning 25, again, and they believe it (you gotta love kids!)

I’ve told people I would not be celebrating this year, that I didn’t want gifts, and that if they found me wandering the neighborhood mumbling incoherently to leave me the heck alone!

I’ve also told off all those happy people who just turned 40 and who have said, “Oh, it’s just a number! Look at me! I’m so happy!” with a lot of exclamation points in their voice. (Who the hell wants to get old, is what I say?! Once you hit 21 you can legally do everything you need to do. From there it’s all downhill!)

I’ve spent a lot of time looking backward in the past month, recalling those things I loved about being younger and cursing those things I hate about growing older.

But life is a, well, you know what it is, and then you move on.

You have to keep running, right?

So I am.

Now, this week I plan to spend my time considering the things I love about getting older.

I’m going to ignore the few gray hairs that have sprouted up on my head like wayward children, and the cricks and creaks and groans my bones make when I get out of bed in the morning.

Screw the stomach that doesn’t agree with hot sauce anymore – she’s getting it anyway, because I’m not slowing down.

And the fact that I can’t stay up past 11 anymore without feeling like crap the next day, even if I’m only snuggled up on the couch with a good book, will just have to wait.

One thing I’ve noticed is my addiction,  obsession,  love of running has actually changed for the good as I’ve aged, unlike the wrinkles near my eyes.

I’ve learned:

1. My body can perform miracles. It birthed two babies and it has run two marathons. I can run in the rain, in t he heat, in the snow, and on ice. I can run with a cold. I can run when I think I don’t want to run (and oftentimes, those end up being the best runs).
2. I don’t have anything to prove to anyone else. In my earlier years, especially my twenties, running was about winning. It was about going faster than the next person. I’d even hurt myself attempting to do this. Nowadays I realize running is internal, it’s intrinsic, it’s in-me. I just have to do it; that’s the beauty of running.
3. If it hurts, I should slow down. When you’re young , pain seems good. “Oh yea, my knee was on FIRE man and I ran to the finish line anyway! Sure, they may have to replace it, but I have another one, right?” Um, until you get older. Then you realize if you do something stupid, like run while injured, you may be giving up running for good. And trust me, when you’re on the bad side of 40 you don’t want to have to give shit up for good. Period.
4. Running, it does a body good. Finally, all I can say is this: I’m in better shape now than I was when I graduated high school, graduated college, finished my master’s degree, and married my husband. Running has gotten me through ups and downs and highs and lows, and in the meantime it has allowed me to continue to wear the same size clothes for the past 10 years even while eating peanut butter straight out of the jar. Not too shabby.

While I’m not happy about turning 40, nor will I ever be, I can see some of the upsides to aging, even though my eyesight, sadly, is not what it was when I was 20.

Who needs the eyes anyway, right?

In the meantime I have scheduled 2 half marathons, one in February and one in March, as I recover from my cartilage tear. If all goes well I’d like to do one marathon prior to summer; if it doesn’t, oh well. (You see, there is it, that great running attitude again! Forty still stinks though!)

Happy Running!

My first 13 mile training run for this racing season. It went pretty well. The weather held up – nice and brisk.  The knees, though sore now, held up – so I’m icing them down. Next week I do 9 or 10 and then up to 15 in hopes of getting ready for the Jacksonville Marathon in December.

UPDATE
One day later:

Daughter began getting sick at noon, as I finished up this post -  as you know you don’t have much time once the baby starts throwing up.

She is doing much better today, but we had a rough, rough night. We were up most of it. Her fever has broken and she’s holding food down, but I can tell you this – it is way worse to watch this little person that you love so much it hurts to throw up than it is to do it  yourself!

RUNNING NEWS:
I ran tonight instead of this AM. I had to get out of the house – 2 kids, one sick and one not, inside all day, it’s tough! I did 5 miles in record time. Why is my time so much better in the night than in the morning, when I am used to running?

UPDATE
One day later:

See, when you have kids you can’t get everything done at once. This post has taken two days! It is my off day of running, and I slept in – yay!

I keep getting asked if I am doing the Jacksonville marathon – and the answer is, I hope!

I have learned this when you have kids:

Don’t expect anything. Expect everything!

It is tough to plan for things when you have young kids. So much comes up. I want to run the Jax marathon, but in all honesty I am trying to hold off on making committments with my running right now. I did that with Disney and though I felt I had trained enough, maybe I had not. We moved cross country, kids got the flu, and things changed all during my training. I don’t want to commit to something this time and get injured again.

I want to go in prepared.

After Sunday’s half marathon training run, I know I can do the half. So that’s all I’m commited to at this time.

I’d like to do the full -

It just depends on where life takes me in the next two months!

My new rule of running:

Fit it in when you can, and make it enjoyable.

So often I think we forget running is something we do for enjoyment and stress relief. It’s not supposed to bring us MORE stress. So often in the past I have tried to commit to this, or stick to that strict schedule, and then I’m all stressed out about my runs and things go sour quickly.

I’m trying to take a more relaxed approach to  running now. And in all honesty, for the past six months or so this has worked out well for me.

Before that time I would have never considered going for a 5 mile run at 6 PM. Never! If I missed it in the AM, it was gone for the day.

I believe this more relaxed approach has really helped me a lot, and has improved my running. I realize I am a runner – I can run whenever I can go; all I need is my shoes!

SPEAKING OF SHOES:
I ordered my new pair last night! Went with Saucony Progrid Guides, wide, again, because damn they work well! I had asked a store to order them for me, since I can’t get to a running store in this town; two weeks later, still no word from them. I called, asked where the shoes could be, and they said they weren’t sure – so I ordered them off of Amazon and got them about twelve dollars cheaper!

WOOT!

Can’t wait until they come in. They will be my Jax shoes, marathon or half.

Hope all your runs are good ones today!