Standing Firm at Two Point Oh

I got home a little after three this afternoon. It is cool and almost sunny outside, and the earth still has that fresh rain smell from last night. I figured I should probably take advantage of this lovely afternoon before the temperature rises to 10 degrees above scorching. Which it will. Soon.

I have been told that I am disgusting. I don’t think so, but my sister and boyfriend have said so on several different occasions. I wore the same running clothes that I wore yesterday. Yep, dirty. Come on. I spent about an hour in them yesterday, and it wasn’t like anybody was going to be smelling me while I was out running today. I hate doing laundry, but more importantly I’m saving water and energy. I do shower daily. Besides, everyone wears jeans more than once. You know you do.

So here it is. My favorite ventilated running shirt on Day Two. (That’s my armpit.)

I really didn’t feel like running. I blame my activities this weekend. It was a very exceptional situation. Hockey game Friday night fueled by dollar beers in deceptively sized plastic cups. Hence, no run on Saturday. Saturday night, out with friends and then back to our house after everyone realized that when I said, “It is never a good idea to go to a bar on St. Patrick’s Day, especially one named McFinnigan’s,” I was absolutely correct. Long after midnight, after I was sound asleep, someone decided it would be fun to have a BBQ on Sunday. At our house. No run Sunday. And an all day BBQ implies that I was still detoxing yesterday, and have yet to be able to run. At least that’s my theory. Besides any run is a good run. That’s my motto. Unless said run dips below two miles. Then it’s all moot.

Back to today’s excursion. I decided beforehand to do my usual loop. Two miles and done. After nearly being mauled by alleyway dogs yesterday, I should have learned my lesson. But something about running down alleys is just so appealing. It’s like being in a jungle. With a lot of trash.  And mangy dogs. Today, I picked an alley that I was sure-ish was home to no large dogs.

Alas, I was wrong; there was one large dog. But (s)he was behind a sturdy fence, and didn’t seem exceptionally aggressive. I easily snapped a picture without worrying about the dog busting through the fence.

Around two kilometers in, there’s a hill. Not a San Francisco style hill, but it’s enough to burn my calves and lungs. I kept going for about a block after I reached the top, then stopped briefly to take this gem of a picture. Mostly, I just wanted a second to catch my breath.

I pushed myself for the last kilometer, making it home in average time. Hopefully, I can add at least a half mile to my run this week. My sister, the ultra-marathoner, thinks that’s silly. I should add a mile, she says. I’m okay with adding a half mile at a time. If I feel like it, I can always run farther.