I ran

in the sun, no gun. It was fun. 3.1. Then I was done. And that aint no pun

Just sayin'

11.4 on the treadmill Wednesday, 9.94 OUTSIDE today. Perfect running weather, overcast 55ish degrees. It wasn't hard to do this many miles today; I just ran to the church to help clean it and then ran part way back...and my foot does not hurt. My hips still threaten to scream at me but I think the orthotics help. And my abs are sore from the crunches on the ab lounge; hopefully this means I am not neglecting core work?

Someone forgot to tell the angels.

I am a nectarine fiend. I just got some "new crop" nectarines. I kept checking to see if my hand would go through the wall, if I could feel things. I have died and gone to heaven. Somehow they didn't get the message about all my sins. Oh, and I ran 10 miles on the treadmill. I WILL get in my 20 this week.

Windermere marathon as a volunteer

First off I want to say an E-ism. I'm calling it that because I can't quit thinking it. I can't quit thinking it because it is what I need to hear. It is this. We are here, not to find comfort, but primarily to grow. And growth is rarely comfortable. Why must I sleep? Why must I be awake? Maybe I should go a few nights without sleep and a few days without caffeine (gasp). But. That. Is. Uncomfortable.

Speaking of discomfort, my left hip still hurts in the same way. All the fancy schmancy stuff they are doing has not impressed my hip. It still has the same pain, in the same way, and is still preventing me from getting in a mere 20 miles this week.

Now for the good news. I'm going to the laundromat to do laundry! It's so exciting for me to sit and read and read, uninterrupted, while several loads of laundry are being done at once.

And I volunteered at the marathon this morning. No one I knew broke four hours. (I did not realize how good I used to be, ha. The older I get, the better I used to be.) Unbelievably, the little tourist train went through the finish line with runners trying to get around it. When I looked at the driver, a sweet man at least 90 years old, I softened. After all, he came through about 4:30 and most of the marathoners could brag they beat the train into the station. Or that they didn't just FEEL like they were hit by a train; they almost were.

Here's a pic of my amazing Tim by the Falls. Hopefully someday I will get to enjoy them as an actual Windermere marathon participant.