Be one with the rain.

 Every single runner I run into (ahahaha) says, "oh did you hear about this 5k race? Its a good one!" or.. "Im doing this next weekend" (insert massive talk up here so your dying to do it without knowing what the race is actually for.) Its hard to smile and stick to my guns; absolutely no more 5k's, 10k's or any other kind of k's until after my half. Zilch, nada, NONE. It's so hard. I think I'm going to have to stay off the race calendar from now until the 24th. It just might be the only way. Sigh.. oh the hardships of being a race addict.

 Today being wednesday was my meet up with the other running group. I pissed and moaned, throwing it back and forth on whether or not to actually go all day. One second, I was dead set against it; my muscles ache badly (so sorry thighs.. but I'm sure you understand..) and the sky looks oh so threatening. I do not run in the rain. Its hard to see when you wear glasses - and unless I really from the depths of my soul need a run, I do not enjoy it.  Then I talked myself into just getting dressed, a little trick I learned from Runners World magazine. (I owe you!) When I looked in the mirror and thought, I don't want to go because in these comfy (not willing to change) work out clothes, I don't look athletic. WHAT?!? Even for me, thats the stupidest excuse I have ever used to date. So off to run I went. And I hated every mile, every second, every stride of it. It was the kind of run where your iPod might be saying that your keeping a good, strong pace but you just feel like you're not moving. I even thought to myself at one point that an elderly person could out run me. (Even now, I wouldn't be surprised.) The rain was one of those miserable drizzles and all I could think about was the fact that my shoes would be getting wet. At one point, I simply wanted to lay down in the middle of some random persons yard and quit. But you know what? When I was done, I felt great and accomplished. I would force myself to do that exact run over again in a heart beat.  I truly believe that there is something to be learned from each and every run. I think the less than perfect ones keep you humble.

 The best part of my run, and to make my splendid day even more splendidy-er The Woman got me a new pair of running shoes for our three year anniversary! Holy excitement!... She loves me. Yes, its a few days early but with the half so close we can't waste absolutely any time breaking them in. I went to a real place to get them - they measured my feet (and it was then determined that I had been buying my shoes half a size too small ALL this time. Way to go.) and they let me try em' out on their treadmill. Oh what a nice nice treadmill. I keep secretly fantasizing about getting take more than a three minute run on that baby. Any who... I think that my shin pain could be partly attributed to poor support in my old shoes so we went with the most support they had to offer. I still got to stay within the Nike family! - thank god because there wouldn't be enough time in the world to grieve and then get over that loss. I took them out for the four and a half mile run from hell tonight and absolutely loved them. Great sneaker - so far, I couldn't be happier.

These are the rest of my babies.. One is old, burnt out and retired. Another is brand new but I only use them for short distances. One I learned isn't even a pair of running shoes (umm wtf Nike??). And the other is my favorite racing shoes yet they screw me over each and every time by eating away at my ankles.  Regardless of there imperfections, quirks and other what-have-yous... I love them all. (Not exactly equally, but there is love none the less.) The best part about coming home from a crappy run? Having my two cats willing to cuddle up to my stinky, over run, rained on self. Sometime the only thing that separates me from being the crazy cat lady is a pair (or five) of running shoes... and other times, the only thing that separates me from being the crazy running lady are my cats. <3