I have promised myself all day that I was going to do a nice little three mile run at some point. That point has been pushed back a bunch of times today and now it's 7 pm. I could still go. I probably should. I knocked off 7.3 miles early yesterday morning, making a point of keeping my speed a little on the quicker side. Today my legs hurt from my upper thighs down to my toes. Even my feet and ankles hurt. I'd love to blame my new shoes, or going back outside, or just that I ran really really fast (ha! not really), but I think it really comes down to my total slackoff attitude where running (and exercising and housecleaning and playing with the kids) is concerned lately.

I think it's ironic that while I'm out running 7.3 miles (I could have done more, actually, I was feeling pretty good), my body doesn't say Hey Tif, um, this is only your second run this week. You suck lately, you should probably take it easy just this once and get back to it in a more realistic way next week. Maybe slow down a little, or shorten this route up some. Nope. My body says I can do it, and I can, so I do. Last summer I could run six or more miles a day during the week and eight or nine or ten on Saturday without being sore after. Today it hurt to walk down the stairs.

(At this point the phone rings, so I leave)

(Now I'm back)

I'm going to a friends house to swap my outgrown boy clothes for her outgrown girl clothes. I got off the phone and figured that if I was going to run I had best do it, so I did. It's a beautiful night for a run. Just a little breezy, not too warm, and nice and sunny. My legs actually feel better now. I kind of figured they would.

I've got to get back to where I was last summer. My big run is only eight weeks away!


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