CLICK HERE FOR BLOGGER TEMPLATES AND MYSPACE LAYOUTS »

Saturday, September 8

Running Atire

The biggest lesson I learned today was to never again run through downtown Hillsboro. And to never run through downtown Hillsboro when you don't know exactly where you're going. If you're lost, you spend a lot of time looking around at street signs instead of continuing on your way without stopping. After successfully avoiding being killed about 13 times on the rural road of NW West Union, I thought city sidewalks would be a piece of cake. Apparently, it is OK to make to make cat-calls at someone who has run 16 miles, and because they have sweated so much, and because the sun is out, has visible dried salt on their face, arms and legs. I hated it in Spain and I hated it today.

I have been on some LOOOONG runs during the past two months and before today, only one person in a moving vehicle has acknowledged my presence. . .with their voice I mean. (I stopped counting the horn honks weeks ago.) During an approximately one mile length, I counted at least 13 "acknowledgements." And did I mention I had dried salt on my face and bobby pins in random different places that gave up their purpose for holding bangs around mile 3 and that I was sweaty? I mean really sweaty? This is mile 17 for crying out loud! I stopped counting at 13 because I was basically delirious. For all intents and purposes I was dead. I definitely didn't have a right big toe.

So in conclusion friends. . .I will be walking my 7 miles tomorrow on the treadmill in an air-conditioned room, reading my latest book from the library.

I also learned my new Power Song kicks serious booty! Check out "Song of Hope" by the Robbie Seay Band and I dare you not to bob your head, tap your foot or sing along!

0 comments: