Wednesday, February 9, 2011
If You Can't Say Something Nice
It would be ridiculous to have a blog post that didn't say anything at all. There just isn't much to say. The Enthusiast and I have been hunkered down in our bunker and trying to avoid the onset of the winter funker as the season rages in its final, agonizing death throes.
A week ago, that rodent in Puxsutawney, Pa., predicted an early spring for the first time in my memory. Even the Weather Channel is forecasting temperatures in the high 30s by next week, which would be downright blazing compared to this week's chill.
For now, we're keeping our delicate digits inside. It's been a rough couple weeks weather-wise, and that's how I know it's February in Northeast Ohio. The winter of my discontent is starting to make me feel couped up and crabby and not at all inspired to write witty (or not) blog posts.
Instead of running, the Enthusiast has been ferociously working on finishing the second draft of her thesis and pooping regularly (written with my fingers crossed so as not to jinx it), and I have been rigorously practicing to become a world-class banjo player (to no avail).
The Enthusiast keeps asking me, "Am I going to be able to run a half marathon?" It's been almost two weeks since we ran. But she has 13 weeks until the Cleveland Half Marathon. I once trained for only six weeks for this race and set a then-PR. Hal Higdon's training plans for the distance are 12 weeks. I'm confident she'll be just fine.
Well, I guess I can say something nice after all.