Let's start out this evening's post on a happy note...before we get to the nitty gritty gunk that consumed my running life this evening.
I am the daughter of true cowboy and outdoors man. You know you've read about him in months prior, I like to refer to him in my blogging world as the one and only John Wayne.
I was the son he never had, well, as close as he could get to a son. We went fishing together, sat in deer blinds on the weekends, and I was his right hand daughter when it came to building forts and fixin' things! So it should be no surprise to you that I know how to, and love to build campfires!
So as the temperatures dropped in the great state of Texas, a little light bulb went off in my head...why not take advantage of the quaint little fire place that sits in my apartment and build a cozy fire?
It may have taken longer than I'm proud to admit, but I finally went cave-lady on the little wood pile and created light! Aw...I love a cozy fire, reading a book, and being a regular ole granny.
So, let's get to the portion of my day that reallllly grinds my gears. At 1700 hours I set out to accomplish 7 easy miles at a decent pace (somewhere between a 10 and a 10:30 minutes per mile pace). You could say my measly mileage goal came back with a vengeance and slapped me in the face just a mere 2 miles into the run.
Aw, if I were a person who cried I would have wept right then and there on the street from mere frustration. I, however, was born a mutant child and it seems as though I am not genetically equipped to shed tears. Why....wait, how is it possible that I ran a wonderful 9 miles with ease and comfort not more than a week ago and today I'm not able to complete 3 miles without sheer agony?
Me, being the semi-bitter girl that I am this evening, am going to blame it on my new shoes. Okay I know I should have listened to the shoe "expert" and just shelled out the cash for those hella-expensive running shoes last week, but I just couldn't part with 120 dollars. Uh, but it seems as though now I must pay the piper.
When Fire met Shoes
So if I lived in a house with a nice outside fire pit I would throw my new Nike's into it, dowse them with lighter fluid, strike a match, then sit back and watch my bad decision burn. I'm stuck with an inside fire pit though and feel like throwing them into an inside-fire could be another poor decision on my behalf. If I can't afford expensive running shoes, I sure as hell can't afford to burn down an apartment building.
It looks like I'll be purchasing a new pair of Mizunos every 175 miles from here on out. So, any Nike lovers out there who want a brand new pair of kicks, just lemme know and I'll send 'em your way.