We run on Saturdays, too.

date: Saturday, July 6
goal: run 4 minutes, walk 1, repeat x 6
temperature: warm, humid

O! Sweet Justice! Remember yesterday when I all but collapsed on the floor of the gym and declared, "Thank fracking Jeebus I don't have to run tomorrow"? Ha ha haha hahahahahaha. . . uh, eh, haaaahhhh. I woke up this afternoon, following eight delicious hours of sleep, actually gazed longingly at my math books, then shot a cursory glance at my training schedule.

(Insert long, whiny air-leaving-a-balloon sound here-ish.)

Following some ridiculous reviewing of chapters one and two of algebra (pretty much the same sad, sorry stuff your mind can conjure when considering 7th grade algebra), I laced up my shoes and headed to the playground down the street for today's workout. Surprisingly, I felt a bit better than yesterday, and I managed to finish each of my repetitions despite a constant ache in both shins and strange shoulder and inner-elbow pain (seriously, what is that place called?!). It hurt, but I pressed through, and I did what I set out to do. And I feel like the better person for it. Granted, I'd have felt like an even bigger, better-er person had I not then gone home and ate myself out of house and apartment, but I wouldn't be the girl I am without an unabated adoration of cheese-flavored snack foods.

Roughly one hour following the disemboweling of Vietnamese sandwiches, tubular American potato chips and butterfly-shaped French cookies, I was on top of the world. Three hours later, mind you, I was clutching a bottle of Tylenol, massaging old-lady-ointment into my legs, and whining for my mommy. She never showed.