Or rather sick of being tired.. and tired of being sick.
My fighting gloves were on all weekend keeping this cold away. But once the events (Mr. San Juan Island.. and our RLR 10K) were proven successful, I relaxed and the five letter word that is also pronounced cold took full advantage of me.
At least the weather was agreeable. And Frankly so were we. Some that said they only wanted to run four decided to run five... but once we got to the five turn off, were easily convinced to run a bit further, turning off at the six mile mark.
I still hadn't decided if it was in my best interest to run any farther than six myself (the whole being sick thing). And when the three darlings turned off... I seriously hesitated, held back... then... *sigh*.... ran on, catching back up with the other four.
The sun was a welcome change from all the rain, yet the only one prepared was T. with her white sheen across her face from using her child's sunblock. We kicked ourselves for not bringing sunglasses, but quite honestly didn't mind the brightness. And discussed my (cross your fingers they're not as dorky as they sound) arm warmers I ordered last night at 1AM. They seem like the perfect solution for weather that won't make up it's mind.
There is something to be said about running uphill with a chest cold; it's not much easier to run downhill either... making it all equally hard and taking away the worry of any upcoming incline. I suppose you have to find the bonuses where you can.
We passed the gorgeous False bay, staring donkeys and continued onto bailer hill... only to find myself speeding up a tad, not be stuck behind the especially ripe friend (lips are sealed on which one that was). For some reason we all Sped up on Douglas road... aka the road with no shoulder, a road where we have equal parts annoyed honks from drivers wanting us to move the eff out of the way and ones who give us fist pumps of "WAY TO GO GIRLS". (I'll take the latter.)
Stopping at the corner of San Juan Valley checking watches... we've ran 10 miles and I'm more than tempted to put my thumb out. I'm feeling okay, as long as I don't take any deep breaths (who needs to breathe deeply while running anyways right??).
We carry on.. and either my mapping skills are incorrect or our watches are. We annoyingly have to tack on an extra .75 miles to make it an even 12. Our pace of 9.49 was quickly changed to a 'lets get this thing freaking over 7.50' through the streets of Friday Harbor.
*phew*... we make it. It's all worth it once we're sitting in that sweet sweet hot tub.
And can I just add, that there is some unwritten rule about having to forget some key item in your gym bag... for most it's a brush, or shampoo, sometimes it's underwear or (gasp) your bra. But today I topped it all with forgetting my pants! ... I was saved by the way by a lovely friend who showed how close we really are by not being totally grossed out when I admitted to forgetting one other key item of clothing as well.
12 miles. ave. pace 9min. 42 sec.
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