After running 47 miles this past weekend, I had thought I'd go running yesterday, 7 miles at lunch.
My office mate suggested we go get some lunch at...
"Dude, I've gotta get a run in errr... Larkburger? I haven't eaten there yet."
Lunch run could wait.
|Image courtesy of Royce Bair|
Three days in a row though wasn't going to happen.
After a back and forth with my wife via skype chat about moving or not moving. Moving in country or moving out of country. Making decisions or not making decisions. Applying for jobs or not applying for jobs. Eating grapes or raisins. Wearing Crocs or blah blah blah... I took the afternoon off to get my resume in shape.
That done, I headed out the door in my Bikilas for 4 miles. I felt remarkably loose and smooth. I kept looking at my GPS and dialing back the speed. I really wanted today's workout to be easy. Recovery.
After 4 in my five fingers, I got home and grabbed Homey for 3 more. I took off my shoes. He doesn't run in them, so until he's got tough pads again, neither will I. It's really easy to stay easy running with a dog. They've got lots to do while you're out. Sniff. Mark. Pee. Poop. Repeat. For me and Holmes it works out to: run 1/4 mile stand for 20 seconds. At least for the first mile and a half. Then he settles into a travelling mode which is almost metronomic (new word: root metronome)...
Anyway. Today I got my resume in shape (it's pretty obnoxious, but doesn't look like yours), I ran 4 miles in VFFs and 3 barefoot with the dog, and I had an argument with my wife. Hopefully, tomorrow doesn't include door number 3.