my super sweet sixteen.

Well, i finally broke past that thirteen mile mark.  Physically, it was tough, but mentally it was tougher.  I really wanted to throw in the towel at 14 miles and peace out.  Or lay down and nap.  If my pace leader Trisha wasn't there, i would not have finished this run.  My whole body is pretty sore right now, but the worst off by far is my feet.  They feel like they have been through some kind of a physical assault.

Its definitely the most time i have spent running on them, and they are not pleased.  After the little starburst break at mile 12, they were slightly appalled that i continued running.  They never saw it coming....sorry little guys!


I came home and i was ravenous.  All i wanted was a bloody mary, in and around my face.  As i was drinking it, i remembered that skinny runner always refuels with chocolate milk.  Too bad i hate both chocolate and milk.  Dear Mrs. T's bloody mary mix.  SPONSOR ME.  Seriously, there is nothing else i would rather drink after a long run.

I will represent you.

Despite my success today, i am in a pissy mood.  As i sit next to Matt right now, i am debating punching him in the face.  Maybe its because i am starving and it is making me emotional, or maybe its because he has been on the lazy side lately.

As soon as i hobbled up the three flights of stairs after my 16 mile run, he was like "the dog really needs to go out, can you take her?" because he had neglected to put on pants yet, and was in the middle of a game of halo.  trying. not. to. punch. him.  Hobbling back down those stairs with the dog and then standing on my razor-blade feet in the cold in my sweaty freezing clothes was extremely unpleasant.


I have more ranting to go over about racks of ribs and grocery store judgement, but i will save it for tomorrow, since it is really hard to blog and drink this (second) bloody mary...