Random, again.
Ran 6 miles this morning. Go Team Me! The next two weeks are likely to wreak merry havoc on my workout schedule, what with having to be at rehearsal at 6 p.m. every weekday, so the more morning runs I can get in, the better off I will be.
I slept all day yesterday, which makes it the second Sunday in a row. I'm choosing not to get down on myself (even though it meant I didn't make my mileage goal), because I'm still processing all of the Richard III crap and work has been amazingly stressful and sick-making. Good news is, the carpeting dudes are now supposed to only carpet at night, so I won't have to worry about glue poisoning. Just the fume poisoning from the wallpaper paste or whatever they're using.
Marathon training begins mid-June. I need to reach my mileage goals each week before then, otherwise I'll be cranky with myself. That's 4 weeks. I can do that. It's only 20-25 miles. That's easy. Said the woman who just mentioned that she'll be in exercise hell for the next two weeks.
I just registered for the Twin Cities Marathon again, and promptly got all choked up as "You Get What You Give" started running through my head. (That song is played on a constant loop at one of the water stations near the halfway mark.) I am a total goober. Total. Fear my goober-tasticness!!
Z is making noises about running it next year. Amazing. I love it.
IOPainfulN, I managed to gouge a perfectly straight three-inch deep scratch into my back the other night. It's right in the bra line area, and right in the soon-to-be (eventually) tattooed area, so there's no getting around it and there's no way to put a band-aid on it by myself. I can barely get the lotion on it. Ow. Owowowow. Whine. Sniffle.
Am currently creating eleventy-billion cover letters for various jobs that would get me the hell out of here. We shall see if any pay off.
I've been dreaming a lot lately - stress dreams that involve friendly acquaintances. I guess because I feel socially insecure right now? Dunno.
"Don't let go, one dance left...."
I slept all day yesterday, which makes it the second Sunday in a row. I'm choosing not to get down on myself (even though it meant I didn't make my mileage goal), because I'm still processing all of the Richard III crap and work has been amazingly stressful and sick-making. Good news is, the carpeting dudes are now supposed to only carpet at night, so I won't have to worry about glue poisoning. Just the fume poisoning from the wallpaper paste or whatever they're using.
Marathon training begins mid-June. I need to reach my mileage goals each week before then, otherwise I'll be cranky with myself. That's 4 weeks. I can do that. It's only 20-25 miles. That's easy. Said the woman who just mentioned that she'll be in exercise hell for the next two weeks.
I just registered for the Twin Cities Marathon again, and promptly got all choked up as "You Get What You Give" started running through my head. (That song is played on a constant loop at one of the water stations near the halfway mark.) I am a total goober. Total. Fear my goober-tasticness!!
Z is making noises about running it next year. Amazing. I love it.
IOPainfulN, I managed to gouge a perfectly straight three-inch deep scratch into my back the other night. It's right in the bra line area, and right in the soon-to-be (eventually) tattooed area, so there's no getting around it and there's no way to put a band-aid on it by myself. I can barely get the lotion on it. Ow. Owowowow. Whine. Sniffle.
Am currently creating eleventy-billion cover letters for various jobs that would get me the hell out of here. We shall see if any pay off.
I've been dreaming a lot lately - stress dreams that involve friendly acquaintances. I guess because I feel socially insecure right now? Dunno.
"Don't let go, one dance left...."