This is why I don't run.
This is Andrea. A buddy of mine. She is OBSESSED with running marathons, half marathons, tracks of any kind and just running wild in general.
But see the photo above? Even she was a bit surprised at it. Read what she said about it...
This is what 18 miles looks like. I have resorted to singing aloud to my music in an attempt to keep my spirits up. Around mile 16 I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of a parked car window, and the image reflecting back startled me: I look like a crazed woman. I'm *acting* like a crazed woman. I'm singing in the middle of a street. I'm trespassing on neighbors' properties to run through their sprinklers. I rub my feet with an actual stick of deodorant in order to prevent blisters. I'm running the same quarter mile stretch over and over simply because I'm that desperate for a consistent stretch of shade. I've developed an intense hatred of small dogs, particularly the yappy poodle I had to outrun UPHILL at mile 10 and the damn Yorkie that chased me at mile 15. At one point, I sat on a curb and peed in a gutter (I am not proud). People, it's official: I've lost my damn mind. What’s the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over? Lol.
And this folks is not only why I don't run, it's why I'll never run. Well, that and the fact that I HATE to run. I prefer a nice slow saunter. Okay, not really. I prefer a couch with a marathon on the TV in front of me.
Okay, skip the marathon ... I prefer an I Love Lucy episode on that TV in front of me. And a remote in my hand ... and a cherry limeade in the other.
Are the brownies ready yet?