Apparently, my legs were not down with three days in a row. I headed out toward the track, and I knew I was in trouble from the very first step. I hoped my legs would ease into the run.
However, my legs were not the only reason I didn't run my intervals. When I got to the track, it was littered with loiterers -- almost 30 in legion. No way in Hell's cold dark corner was I going to deal with that hassle. I ran right past the oval of doom and looped back toward home base, where a much more exciting prospect waited for me on the couch.
But fear not! I hope to fulfill my track workout this weekend.
[Drunkard's note: You know what my Granny always said, "Hope in one hand and shit in the other. See which gets filled first."]
Wherein I defend my home turf from malcontents and naysayers.
Some of you scoffed at my mention of cross training after my wet six-miler.
First, Ted thinks I skimped on the repetitions: "Three sets of each push-ups and sit-ups. Impressive. Let me guess? One push-up for each set you did. Am I right on this one?"
And then Mike thinks I skimped on the effort: "Were those real push-ups or Charles Barkley push-ups?"
Answer: I did one more push-up and sit-up per set as the number of blog posts Ted wrote in April. Slacker. As for form, well, as Barkley said, "I'm not a roll model."
JoyRuN is happy to hear that they actually ship fresh fish to Akron: "Sounds like the fish was fresh if you didn't taste THAT about to come back up."
Answer: Near pukeage had nothing to do with the sushi and everything to do with my finishing kick. There are actually quite a few good sushi places in the area. I suggest Big Eye, House of Hunan and Sushi Katsu.
And thanks to everyone who stopped in the wish me a happy two years, although it has been everything but happy.
Speaking of which, Happy Hour is nearly upon us, teammates. Chug one for Sarah and wish her good luck, for she is running the Cleveland Marathon this week. And I am not. Run well and drink well. Cheers!