Well, it’s good for me that I had a good Saturday, especially since it was my birthday.
Because Sunday was rather lousy. Mostly due to my horrible run, the worst I’ve had in a long time. It was an ambitious 15 miler, run at about 7:30 to 7:45 per mile pace, with the middle 1/3 to be run at around 6:30 per mile pace. Everything went well until around mile 7, where I was anticipating the water fountain to be. Alas, midsummer maintenance had deprived me of the water that I sort of desperately needed at that point. Despite the lack of water, I decided to continue on.
Then my legs went dead. Stone cold numb. I could run, but I really couldn’t feel my legs. I don’t know why. I wasn’t partying too much on Saturday night (shared a bottle of wine over dinner and stayed up too late watching part of a bad movie), so I don’t know what happened.
And then, to top it off, as I’m approaching mile 13 (at least, I think it was mile 13, things were kinda fuzzy at that point), I saw someone I used to date. Running with her new boyfriend. And he looked like a real goober.
I guess things could have been worse. I could have been hit by a bus or been shot.