Very important! I am on the road to, I believe, losing a toenail. This makes me inexplicably proud. Like, yeah, I ran 9 miles on Sunday*, whatever, but have I told you about my foot and how unutterably gross it is? Behold.
Luckily for you, I can't find my camera right now. I've taken to festively adorning my toe with a Handy Manny band-aidlet to avoid ruining people's days.
Anyway, so, yes, I did, in fact, run 9 miles on Sunday. It was mostly in a row, I stopped at 8.5, realized I was still, sadly, far from home and dinner and then, because of the siren call of the Indian feast served trough style awaiting me at home (oh how I love these long run day caloric needs), limped out an extra mile.
I made that run more interesting by stalking a bunch of friends and giving their mailboxes a playful tap as I went by. One of these friends lives at the top of an atrocious hill, which I hit at mile 5.5. Oof. Natasha, if you want me to keep whacking your mailbox (surely you must) I really would move to someplace a smidge flatter. Please.
AND THE RACE IS ON SUNDAY. Oy. I have a wee bit of fear percolating still, but it's mainly procedural, and of the will I wake up on Monday and realize I forgot all about it variety. I looked up times from last year and it's unlikely that I'll come in last, unless I walk on my hands, which I have already decided not to do, I am pretty sure. Gotta save something for next year.
On Monday I will officially be able to channel all of my freaking out in the general direction of the half marathon in September. But honestly, I probably won't. I'll just continue to haphazardly follow my training schedule and look at various running gear online and wonder about the meetings that possibly take place at the top two (only two) manufacturers of nipple guards about really, finally cornering the abrasion avoidance market and taking out that interloper, whichever the other product is.
PS Chris from the Bachelorette is running this race, apparently. This excites me mildly.