In which I fail at long runs, but win at life.

The time has come to discover the answer to the age old question... What is worse? Big hills? Chapped knees? Muddy roads? Or what? The winner of this diabolical question is all of the above... And just a bit more for good measure.

I was looking at my long run with a bit of trepidation as I have really been pushing it a bit lately and henceforth, feeling it in my knees, my shin, and especially my brain which was just tired! I took a day off after my muddy hilly dirt road 6 miler over the weekend (which, despite the sounds of things was a solid run! go figure...)

My plan for the infamous long run of torment was to bypass all the mountains, avoid the 30 MPH wind and 25 degree temps, and baby my poor little knees along on the treadmill (which hasn't been blessed with the presence of my feet in weeks!) Alas, it was not meant to be. Things got busy and before I knew it my driving to the gym time had been absorbed by what I like to call "answer impossible question time". This is the time of day when my clients ask me to solve their life problems for them. This presents something of a challenge for me as I am only well versed in a few subjects- but what the hell- I always give it a good shot.

So... Armed with the knowledge that I had another happy client who was more tech savvy thanks to my instruction off I went. Gusting winds in my face. Frozen ground under my feet. An attempt to maintain a positive mindset... in my brain? Yeah....

Things felt just fine until I got to mile 4 and then I discovered that I was freaking starving. Evidently, it was a lot later that I thought it was and was nearing my snack time. Which is one of the most important times of the day for me, thank you very much. You should not get between this girl and her food unless you want to have an epic battle in which I win, and then steal your candy! HA! So... I reached for my Clif block shit thing only to discover that in my haste to depart I had neglected to put on my vest which normally carries all my valuables: aka: FOOD. Damnit.

Things did not end well. We'll leave it at that. After 9 wimpy miles I crept back into my parents driveway completely worked over, sore, starving and really grouchy. What a complete shit show, I was irked by my complete lack of planning and general incompetence. Upon witnessing my dive into the dirty snowbank and hearing my agony my Dad did the only sensible thing.

He brought me a beer. Good thinking!

I am so delighted to see that despite my MANY layers of clothing that I still am roughly the size and shape of Justin Bieber. Why, WHY?!

Anyway. I survived. For the rest of the week pre race I am going to do the easiest runs imaginable and try to nurse my sore body parts back to good health. I think this is a good lesson to all: nothing- bad weather, sore muscles, idiocy- NOTHING- can resist the medicinal purposes of a good old fashioned beer. Cheers!