The temperatures hit 60 degrees on Sunday, and I had every intention of going for a run to enjoy the unseasonable weather. But something, something about best laid plans quoted from a John Steinbeck book, and I missed my opportunity to run as the day got away from me.
And that's how the Enthusiast outran me last week, after she up and decided to register for the Cleveland Half Marathon next May. Kudos to her.
I have told her now is the time get into a running rhythm before winter hits and enjoy the freedom of the miles before adopting a training plan for the race. You know: do as I say, not as I do.
And my right foot hurts kinda. And no, it's not from running in silly toe shoes. Because I haven't running much at all to merit a running injury. I think I tweaked it getting out of bed one morning last week.
That should teach me not to get out of bed anymore. But alas, attendance is required if I want to keep my occupation.
I was all excited when I saw that today too is supposed to be unseasonably warm. However, a second ago a roar of thunder drew my attention to the window where I saw it pouring rain. A thunderstorm in November? I'd prefer snow.
Fuck, did I just write that out loud?