AP 9:00. Last mile: 8:10. Woke up feeling terribly again especially after a long night with Izzy who woke up several times and at one point was up for about an hour crying about her hurting ear and missing her daddy. Sick kids while sick with no husband is no fun. Anyway, this morning I was trying to figure out when/how to do my run when I saw that Izzy's tongue was white, so of course self-diagnose both her and I with strep throat. I swear I instantly felt about 10 times worse knowing how "serious" our condition was and figured a medical waiver from my long run was in order. About an hour later, my mentally imposed suddenly very sickly self felt still sluggish and kind of crappy but figured I really wasn't sick enough to cop out on the run so with Madeline at a birthday party I set Izzy up to watch a Barbie movie (figuring that being 2 and all and sick its the best way to keep her down and relaxing anyway, right?) and pounded out the 12 miles on my treadmill while finishing up BBCs Pride and Prejudice then watching the "extra features" which turned out to be highly disappointing (I like the in-depth interviews with all the cast and at least 2 hours of extra features as this prolongs the duration of films that I watch on the treadmill). Am now out of Gatorade and had to drink water throughout, so when I was done stopped by the gas station for Gatorade and chocolate milk (running staples of course), and am glad to say I finished it respectably, though now I have the inevitable post-running desire/justified feeling that I should be able to sit on my couch and eat ridiculous amounts of dove chocolates for the rest of the night. Not really sure 12 miles qualifies for this feeling, since it hardly seems like a "long run." Aaah, where did the good old days go when 6 was long, 8 was impressive, and anythinng over 10 was a huge accomplishment? Crazy marathon freaks. |