Exercise and all that fun stuff

So today was training day 3. Yes, I know I started last Wednesday (and yes, today was garbage day too but apparently I timed it correctly as there was no truck in evidence today and I only had to smell unpleasantness from the cans too full to close, but I digress) which means I rested more days than I ran but I did also have a day with a tennis match in there too. And seeing as we lost in a 3 set tie breaker, I'm willing to fudge it a little and say that it partially counts as an exercise day. Of course, we lost because of a combination of lack of conditioning on my part and unforced errors (also sadly mainly attributable to me thanks to the aforementioned lack of conditioning) so the day just reinforced the need for me to be out on the road putting in the mile(s). And in case I needed additional reinforcements, only one of my very cute tennis skirts still fits me. Worse yet, today's sports bra (no, I didn't run *or* do laundry this weekend but I did dress up like Gene Simmons in KISS so I was more productive than you thought, no?) no longer contains all it was designed to contain so I look like I'm smuggling very lumpy cantalopes in my bra. And you know any time you start comparing a part of your anatomy to rotten fruit, things have gotten out of hand. So I was back out on the road today.

The weather was perfect for running with only a mild breeze. I felt phenomenal. It was almost like being in shape again. Then I turned the first corner and hit the first hill. My short lived dream of feeling good when I run right now died a miserable death. The women walking behind me whom I had just passed were dangerously close to overtaking me (how mortifying would that be?) so I powered up the hill and lost them. OK, they made a different turn than I did but it sounds like I actually put on a burst of speed if I say it the other way. I started feeling reasonably decent again at the halfway point but was back into self-negotiation mode by the time I hit a mile. I was also breathing like I have emphysema and not interested in swallowing my own spit by that point. Yes, I must have made a charming sight: dumpy brunette chugging down the road hawking loogies about every fourth foot fall. My neighbors who work have no idea the spectacle they're missing. I did manage to run all the way home again instead of stopping short and once at my driveway, I tried to take my pulse. Nevermind that I had no watch to time it with. It was clear that the poor overworked heart was pumping somewhere between cardio workout and heart attack level, probably leaning closer to heart attack.

Now I'm feeling good that I went out and did it. Tomorrow is a spin class and Thursday is another tennis match. Friday could be more tennis but I'm sure I'll squeeze in some more running soon. I have to really since I'm behind the training schedule for the half in January. Good news though, my sister is behind too and says she thinks she'll have to walk some of it. Not that I believe her for one moment especially since she probably walks faster than I run. But I'm on it now.