The great and humbling thing about running is that you never really get there. Or, at least, I don't. I have had so many conflicts lately with schedules and sitters that I'm looking at kissing my 3M goal good-bye. Ok, maybe.
Anyway, this is total junk training. And, my body is telling me that. Today I headed to a Tuesday class for the secret hill. Holy @#@$! I was dead meat. But, I decided I needed some punishing. 5 times up; 3 backwards; 3 strides. I was hurting. It was great to see Ian and Caroline. It was not so fun to suck wind on the hills. B encouraged me -- come on Red, pick up your feet! G tweaking the ridiculous form I thought I had.
We talked more about shoes, which is so funny. That blog struck a cord with my friends from Burundi.
Apparently, I need to get some Pumas now. But, as I was huffing and puffing, I couldn't understand either of G or B when they told me which Puma shoe I should get.
Ah well, I'm heading for another workout tomorrow. Right after I polish off this glass of Chianti.
It's Ok; Lorenzo is on a cruise, Double D is skiing and I have no idea where Vomit Boy is!
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