I don’t know what my running future holds. I have no plan. I’m signed up for the first Rogue Trail run, a 10K, but beyond that I don’t know what I want to do. I’ve been thinking I sort of miss training for triathlons, so perhaps I’ll do that over the summer. I’ve also been percolating a possible fall or winter marathon, but that’s still up in the air.
Wilke yesterday was tough. I *only* did seven and it felt like a cop out when I stopped and most everyone else was continuing on to ten. At the least, I ran with some of the front runners for the first 5 or so, and got some encouraging words from some of them, so that was positive. But I could barely walk on Monday so it was probably wise that I stopped at seven. I wonder if G reads this blog and knew I was hurting? You there Gilbert? Why else would he single me out for 7?
Six point five miles today and I wanted to quit every step of the way.
I’m mulling over a job offer. One of the decision points is, “would the new job affect my running?” Heh.
Ryan Hall is a big deal.
I got yelled at tonight by a fellow t-ball parent. She came up later and said, “I hope I didn’t sound angry at you…” and I said, “well yes, you did.” Haha.
I read “The Blind Side” by Michael Lewis. Not as good as his “Moneyball”, but I’d definitely recommend it if you like your NFL left tackle evolution intertwined with Memphis social dynamics, NCAA recruiting and the West Coast offense.
I can never find the time I’d like to devote to this blog. I’m always thinking of things to write about, beyond just my tired running notes, but end up just pooping some words out in the 15 minutes I find before bed or during lunch or whatever. Usually, my *best* writing is done while I run, but it gets lost in the intervening mundanity of life. It probably wasn’t that interesting anyway.
But here is something pleasant, my seven-year old playing the piano. Turn it up to 11.
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