Well, ran on Sunday. It was a dismal run. It wasn't the weather (Ok, the wind sucked really bad), it was warm out... sunny. It wasn't my body. Overall I felt good. It was my attitude.
I had to drive in from out of town that morning and didn't get geared up to run until 11:30 AM. I was getting hungry and I knew I had to do homework later on, spend time with the boyfriend, and I wanted to take a nap. On Saturday I got up, rode 72 miles... rushed home... drove 2 hours out of town... and attended a wedding. Slept in an RV with my Dad, Uncle, and boyfriend... on the crappiest bed ever.
So yea, at 11:30 AM on Sunday, the idea of a 2:20 run sounded miserable.
I ended up going 8 miles, at a 12 minute mile pace for 1:40. It was slow, and I wasn't too interested in it. I only sped things up after 50 minutes with the idea that if I just made it 8 miles I could stop... and go pig out on Sonic.
My running is like a rollercoaster. Good days. Bad days.
"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather, to skid in broadside thoroughly used-up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming: WOW WHAT A RIDE!!!!"