Time to take pictures showing how disgusting my feet are! They make me want to throw up a little. During our twenty MILE run today I managed to get three blisters, wipe my nose repeatedly on my gloves, cover myself in gel (the eating kind) and finally bonk as we returned over the Lionsgate Bridge.
We left from Park Royal mall, ran over the Lionsgate, down along the beach, through English Bay, over the Burrard Street Bridge and then to Jericho beach. I saw my old running clinic leader and waved, but I don't think he recognized me. I look a lot like a prepubescent boy in my running gear and hat. Then we turned around and ran all the way back. Running up the hill to Prospect Point in Stanley Park I decided that I would rather run the Scotiabank half marathon than run that goddamn hill after already running 25 kilometres any day. It was that bad. I did it, got onto the Lionsgate and promptly informed my running mate that I was going to walk for five due to the overwhelming feeling of nausea and the tingling sensation in my extremities. Suh-weet. Managed to recover and pulled into Park Royal less than a minute after my group, so I was pretty happy about that.
Had coffee with Michael (his group went faster and further because he's just that goddamn good) and my inner thighs started to seize up. I hadn't had that particular experience before and a lot of patrons probably wondered why I was grabbing at my crotch with a look of agony on my face. Running is super.
Overheard a couple of guys in my group say that I had a flat bum (at least that's what I thought they said) when I passed them. Maybe they said, "She runs dumb" or "my left arm is numb". I don't think I have a flat bum. I think my bum is nice. I made Michael spend a lot of time confirming this very fact.
We showered together (it's environmental!) and sort of held each other in a total non-sexual way because we were too tired to stand up. I told him he could take my car home (he lives a ten minute walk away). We're going to go out for dinner tonight and get smashed after one beer.
I love running. I love my running group and the coffees afterwards and the people that I meet when I run and the view over the Lionsgate is amazing: it was my first time running over the bridge. Running through Jericho is as gorgeous as it was when I trained with the Running Room at 4th and Alma last year.
I'm so lucky to be able to take part in this every Sunday. The high five I get from A when I finish the run, the "well done, kiddies" that I get from S, the stellar courses? It makes the blisters a small price to pay.
But pretty gross, eh?
We left from Park Royal mall, ran over the Lionsgate, down along the beach, through English Bay, over the Burrard Street Bridge and then to Jericho beach. I saw my old running clinic leader and waved, but I don't think he recognized me. I look a lot like a prepubescent boy in my running gear and hat. Then we turned around and ran all the way back. Running up the hill to Prospect Point in Stanley Park I decided that I would rather run the Scotiabank half marathon than run that goddamn hill after already running 25 kilometres any day. It was that bad. I did it, got onto the Lionsgate and promptly informed my running mate that I was going to walk for five due to the overwhelming feeling of nausea and the tingling sensation in my extremities. Suh-weet. Managed to recover and pulled into Park Royal less than a minute after my group, so I was pretty happy about that.
Had coffee with Michael (his group went faster and further because he's just that goddamn good) and my inner thighs started to seize up. I hadn't had that particular experience before and a lot of patrons probably wondered why I was grabbing at my crotch with a look of agony on my face. Running is super.
Overheard a couple of guys in my group say that I had a flat bum (at least that's what I thought they said) when I passed them. Maybe they said, "She runs dumb" or "my left arm is numb". I don't think I have a flat bum. I think my bum is nice. I made Michael spend a lot of time confirming this very fact.
We showered together (it's environmental!) and sort of held each other in a total non-sexual way because we were too tired to stand up. I told him he could take my car home (he lives a ten minute walk away). We're going to go out for dinner tonight and get smashed after one beer.
I love running. I love my running group and the coffees afterwards and the people that I meet when I run and the view over the Lionsgate is amazing: it was my first time running over the bridge. Running through Jericho is as gorgeous as it was when I trained with the Running Room at 4th and Alma last year.
I'm so lucky to be able to take part in this every Sunday. The high five I get from A when I finish the run, the "well done, kiddies" that I get from S, the stellar courses? It makes the blisters a small price to pay.
But pretty gross, eh?
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