It’s mid-October, and we’re expected to have mid-70-80 degree temperature through the weekend….wahoo! That’s great news for me, since I’m going up to Boulder to get fitted for my first “real” pair of running shoes at the Boulder Running Company on Saturday and go for a 5-6 mile trail run along Boulder Creek with Thao, her sister, and Maly on Sunday
Quynh, Maly, and I took an easy 2.35 mile loop through Wash Park, and it was absolutely beautiful with just the right amount of sunshine. Good news: no hip/knee/thigh pain today! Hopefully it doesn’t come back for my long run on Sunday.
Wash(ington) Park is one of a gazillion parks in Denver, and definitely one of the best to do some people watching. Hellooo good-looking, fit runners
So, up until about 3 weeks ago, I absolutely hated running. Like I-would-rather-go-play-with-spiders-and-snakes-than-run HATED (and anyone who knows me knows just how terrified I am of those two things). I have no reason why. I just told everyone that I sucked at it since elementary school when I would always win last place in field day– except in the 3-legged race, I was really good at that.
My former beau somehow convinced me to go for an early morning jog, and I thought, “Yeah, no big deal. I suppose we can go for a quick jog.” I started to complain and whine about 4 minutes into the
run very slow jog, and just got progressively more annoying and whiney because I was miserable.
We were just coming out of the opposite end of an underpass when I glimpsed something out of the corner of my eye. I was happy for the distraction from the jog, and went closer to get a look. The following sequence of events went something like this:
- Slow realization that there was a big, dead rat right by my feet.
- Blindly flailing around in utter panic without looking.
- Biker nearly runs straight into me because I’m flailing about.
- Bursting into terrified shrieks and uncontrollable tears because of the rat and being startled by the biker.
- Boyfriend confused, amused, and overwhelmed by crazy girlfriend.
I’m sure everyone out there has a funny running story, or maybe I’m just really weird and spastic. Ok, I know I’m weird and spastic, but it happens to the best of us