Monday night I had tickets to the Rockies game (thanks mom and dad!). The game started at 6:40 so that meant I had to leave work by 4pm so I could get home, get changed, go run, get home, stretch, get cleaned up and cheer on the team that at this point in the season is beginning to look more like the gang from The Sandlot than the World Series contenders they should be! Steps one and two above went surprisingly well (sometimes getting home and changing can be a daunting task, admit it!). I've been using a new app on my phone to track the pace and distance of my runs so even step three was going well. The app updates me every 5 minutes on my pace, distance, etc. I made it home in 45:34 which comes out to 10:02 miles, not bad after a day at work. So at this point there was plenty of time to catch my breath, stretch, clean up. I was cool calm and collected until my phone rang.
It was just Matt calling to see how my feet were doing. I had complained to him the week before on our hike that my arches felt like they were staging a revolution, similar to the one that over through Hosni Mubarak in Egypt, except in my case, my arches were looking to separate from the rest of my foot rather than seek democracy. Although the more I think about it, maybe they were going for democracy and they right to vote to not run ever again. Totally possible! Any way, Matt suggested I go get some insoles for my shoes, the same ones he has, and he was calling to see if they were working. The good news is they are working! The revolution in my feet has subsided due to the excellent negotiating tactics of the insoles. The bad news is that the game starts in 20 minutes, I'm still in a state of gross on the couch and I still have to pick up my friend Steve who is joining me at the game!
Long-story-short is that I was that girl, the one who was oddly sweating on a perfectly cool evening at the ball park because I didn't give myself enough time to cool down before I got in the shower. Yuck!
Tuesday was going to be my night off of running because I had a hair cut and a work event after work, but when my haircut was canceled I figured I might as well run, lest I wanted Tyson to say I had missed a day (that's right, I said lest)! So there I am on my normal trail, and I was hitting the normal spots where my phone tells me in a creepy robot voice "Current time: 4 minutes, 59 seconds..." but there was no voice! Either my phone was broken or I was running fast, and knowing me, I assumed that my phone was broke! But eventually that angry sounding woman's voice rang out on the clear blue afternoon letting me know that my pace was "9 minutes, 13 seconds per mile" almost a full minute faster than my pace the day before! I wasn't convinced that it was working correctly, after all, why would I run so fast if I didn't have to? But I got home to find out I had set a new best time for myself, two laps of Cheesman Park plus the mile home in 42:37, my final pace: 9:19 per mile!
The excitement of running fast had me stretching out with a smile on my face when I got back to the building, but by the time I'd gotten to my unit and saw the clock I had again secured my fate as the girl who is running around so fast to get cleaned up that she starts sweating again on her way to a fundraiser for work.
Let's just say it's a good thing I've got other things working for me because this running thing is putting a bit of a damper on my ability to show up to things without oddly rosy cheeks.
Go, go Rebecca. I didn't even notice that you were oddly rosy cheeked.
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