I'm afraid I've been neglectful in my blog duties this week. My inconsiderate employer has deemed it necessary to bring an already busy month to a frenzied peak over the last few days. If they weren't paying for my very survival, I'd have slapped them with a sequined glove and challenged them to a moonwalk duel. With the financial hammer hanging over my head, I'll continue dancing for 'em though - hair on fire or not.
All of this comes as I approach Sunday's half marathon. Or semi-marathon. Or 21K. Or whatever you want to call it.
I'm ready to run the race. It's local but rain showers are expected. That would be kinda fun. I've never ran a race longer than a 5k in the rain before. I've always believed I'm a mudder anyhow so this would go a long ways towards proving it.
Unfortunately, my Big Boss Man has robbed me of precious blogging time. Time I could have spent letting you all know how much pavement ass I'm going to kick. You know, typical F.M.S. bluster and pomposity...which ultimately ends in a humiliating defeat. But it's fun while it lasts. I love to pre-taunt a race course. Because, even if it ends up getting the best of me, I know that here in the snowy Midwest the snow plows will be coming around soon enough to scrape the shit out of the roads and leave a trail of pot holes in their wake. Either way, I win. Suck it, roads.
I'll be looking to break my SOS2 goal of 1:29. Considering I've done two 13 mile training runs below 1:30 in the past several weeks, I think this is a manageable goal providing there aren't any unfilled pot holes left over from last winter waiting to grab my foot and snap my Achilles.
I'll try to provide a race report next week. I'll also try to check in with you all some time soon as well. Until then, the BBM is shouting "Jump!" But I have no idea how high I should go? Maybe I'll ask.
I don't even have time to come up with a suitable blog post title...