I went running on Saturday expecting to push myself and maybe do 10 miles total. This is what I saw when I got onto the street.
I promise the moon looked much cooler and bigger and brighter and more yellow. You’ll just have to take my word for it. Anyways I planned on doing 10 miles total. Met my friend we started going and talking and I told her where I was thinking we could go. She pointed out a small problem. The route I planned went right next to a pig farm. Might be doable in the winter (she said that it was impossible in the summer and I believe her completely) but we both decided not to sacrifice our noses. Oh and my friend is a bit more hardcore than I am as a runner. She is also tricksy. I was feeling good, totally good trusting her more extensive knowledge of the neihborhood, and off we went. Turns out she slipped in a few miles. Like 3.5. Which means that by the time I got home I had run a half marathon. I RAN A HALF MARATHON! And I totally didn’t mean to. Not only that but my time wasn’t completely pathetic. WOOOOOHOOOOOO!!!! sorry. My knees and ankles have been screaming at me for the last day and a half, but I officially have no excuses to back out of a real half marathon race. March 17th doing it for real.