4:10am:  “Going back to bed, have a good run.”
4:10:03am:  “K”
(Me simultaneously closing and rolling my eyes while tossing and turning)
4:11am:  “Ugh, never mind.  Peer pressure!  On my way.”

We’ve already logged a lot of hilly miles this week, and in roughly 8 hours, we are going to log 20 more.  I really wanted to fall back asleep this morning for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which being:  I was/am straight up tired.  But by the first quarter mile, as the crisper than expected air hit my face, I smiled.  Right decision.

Running elicits an immediate sense of peace, of purpose, of calm for me.  When I’m out there, so many thoughts fill my brain at once; yet somehow, it’s as if they are all coming at me in slow motion, mercifully allowing me to dissect them with surgeon-like precision.  Some thoughts are hilarious recounts of quips that have made me laugh so hard I will never forget the moment they were uttered and by whom; other thoughts are not so funny. 

Many are somewhere in between, allowing me to find my groove and proper pace instead of swinging my still (always) sore triceps back and forth so fast, as if somehow making it hurt more will make everything else hurt less. 

“Beth and I are going to do negative splits at the half.  What pace are you going out, Doug?”

“Not very fast to start, like 6:45.”

(I mumble something unladylike under my breath from about 10 steps behind them)

“There are a lot of turns, and you finish straight up hill,” I try to yell over my panting.

“Aw, man, you didn’t tell us that! ” Doug yelled back, not panting, as I was swinging my arms out of necessity instead of pissed-offedness trying to get up that sucker without losing pace.

“Yeah…how’s it feel?” I sarcastically respond to the infamous hill-lover. 

These are the kind of conversations that take place, along with making fun of Moody Blues- background-music-playing-all guy-yoga classes as cross training.  Oye vay.

No agendas other than one goal.  It’s more refreshing than the cold air on a sleepy Friday morning.
 
See you in the morning, 20 miles.  We have a lot to discuss.