140.6

140.6 miles, that's how far we have run in January of this year. I thought we were doing more running than ever, so I checked the log from this time last year and we logged 136.4. So only 4 more miles than last year, I guess I need to stop complaining. We've done it before and will do it again. Divided out over the 31 days of the month, we are averaging 4.53 miles a day. Again, that doesn't seem so bad. But we only ran 19 days this month, so that's an average of 7.4. Last year I ran 21 days in Jan. What is the difference this year? The weather is a factor, I'm not sure we had the frequency of snow storms. The other factor would be injury, I had 4 days off due to my thigh just before Bermuda. The other factor is motivation, I'm in need of some quickly. It helps to compare notes from last year, I don't know what else I need. Looking ahead, my mileage goal for Feb will be 179 miles, 38.4 miles more than what I just put up on the board. I'll have to run more than 19 days to get the goal. If I run 25 days, I would need to average 7.16 miles a day. Doable. Stay tuned and if you have some motivation you can lend me I'll gladly accept it!

Stillness

It’s been cold and I’ve been busy, but running can’t fall to the wayside. We bundled up and headed out for a 10 miler this morning, leaving the house a little before 5. I must admit when I was standing by the door waiting for Joe, I wanted to cancel. We started running. Sunday we had completed a 16 miler so even after taking yesterday of, my legs were not enthused with this idea. We moved on, I don’t think we saw a car for the first 2 miles. It’s funny, when everyone is sleeping it’s hard to tell the difference between neighborhoods. So much of a neighborhood is the people who live there; the sounds make it come alive. On Charles St, we ran into a gaggle of police officers going into an apartment. I can only imagine what they were looking for, but they weren’t moving quickly and guns were not drawn. Sometimes I really yearn for that type of action on our morning runs. The most beautiful sight was when we crossed the Point St. bridge. During the day, not a beautiful spot, but check it out one morning around 5:30-5:45. The water had a coating of ice, the new i-way bridge was reflecting into it, I wished I had my camera. Things were so still. Towards the end of our run the world was catching up to us and we had cars to contend with once again. Cutting over the Smithfield Rd overpass is a bit like dodgeball with cars instead of balls. I typically take a deep breath and run as fast as I can, I need to find a new route. Heading up Power Rd the sky was turning from a dark midnight to a lighter shade of blue. Don’t get me wrong was I glad to reach my home, but enjoyed having the city to myself for a little bit this morning.

16 miles...for real?!?

We had planned to start running at 8am. We had lined up runners to help us through it. We had planned for everything...except for 3 degrees. The run was cancelled. We decided to start at noon. When I went back to bed I never expected to really run 16 miles. Come on now, we ran 10 on Friday night and 5 on Saturday. We were tired. Too bad I ate like someone who would run 16 miles. When we finally left the house at 12:22pm it was 19 degrees and with the wind felt like 10. I was bundled up to the max. 2 pairs of sox, 2 pairs of pants, 3 shirts, gloves, hat, and a scarf tied around my face. A half mile into the run I was overheated. We had planned 3, 4.2 mile loops and a 3.2 mile loop. The benefit would be, we would not have to carry water or gu. The first loop was tough, but doable. Coming up the hill on Angell, I pushed too hard. When we reached the car my quads were yelling at me. Water...Gu.. and back to running. I didn't allow myself to think. Our friend turned at Sessions, she kept us moving for the first 5 miles or so. We kept moving. Before I knew it we were at the car again. Water...Gu...Joe looked like he was done. Bent over, hands on his knees. We had 12 miles to go, I couldn't do it alone. FOCUS! I yelled at him. We took off again. My i-pod died at mile 7 or so. I chanted "I feel good" for the next 4 miles. Things did feel good. We were at the car for the last stop. Only a 5K to go, we could do this. We took off again. Running down Angell St., my knees started to ache. Heading down Elmgrove, I got a stitch in my side. No matter what I did with my breathing, it didn't help. I called to Joe on Elmgrove that I couldn't do it. It didn't matter. If we pushed ahead or turned around it would be 16 miles. God damn it!! We kept going. Up Rochambeau I kept my head down. We hit Hope St., and took a left. The hill in front of me felt like a lifetime, for a while I questioned if it took an hour and a half to get up. I questioned what happened to my confidence from earlier. Finally the top, here was the YMCA. All I had to do was make it down the hill and around the corner. Easier said than down. We headed down, Joe pulled ahead. At Tortilla Flats I paid attention to my form. I was slunched over and barely moving my feet. I purposefully stood straight. I lifted my legs at the knees. I pumped my arms. My speed quickened. I was going to finish this. Before I knew it the car was in front of us. We finished 16 miles in 2 hours and 48 minutes. It was a great feeling!! One of my reasons for running the loop was to cut the run short, but we didn't! We finished! It felt good. If we keep the up the marathon may also feel good!!

9.5 miles on a Friday night

Nighttime running is not my typical routine. If I’m not running at 5am, I’m not usually running. This morning the alarm went off at 4:30 and I made it out of bed, but couldn’t bring myself to get dressed and out the door. “Tonight will be warmer”, I called down the stairs. Back to bed we went. I’m not sure if it’s because we didn’t run this morning or because I have spent the last 2 nights in Boston until late, but today was a bad day. I was EXHAUSTED! I spent much of the day planning for my evening nap. It’s funny because as much as I dread the early morning very cold runs, I go to work after with this sense of energy. It wakes me up, clears my mind and gets me ready. Today that didn’t happen. Instead I woke from a 2-hour post work nap and Joe and I hit the roads. Heading down Lloyd Ave felt warm, too warm. It was 34 degrees, not typically a temp that is associated with warmth, but considering our last run was in 18 degrees, it was warm. My legs resisted at first, we had to stop on Elmgrove to stretch for a few moments. I wondered if it was worth it to keep going. If we turned around now, we would have run less than 4 miles. That would have screwed me up for the rest of the weekend, and we pressed on. Finally heading up Hope St., into Pawtucket my legs began to loosen up. I started to notice that things were beginning to freeze. When we started I was warm and had removed my gloves and loosened my top zipper. By now we were on Pleasant St in Pawtucket and I was fumbling to get my gloves back on. The road started to sparkle as cars went by, puddles were a firmer texture, it was getting colder. One of the things I love about running is the opportunity it offers. I have seen many things on the roads that I would have missed if I spent my time in the gym. Tonight for an hour and 45 minutes I watched the roads react to the artic air that was descending upon us. I felt it in my own legs, heading down the Blvd, I was cold, cold like we are in the early mornings. Several times I attempted to persuade Joe to take a short cut so we could head back to the car, he resisted. As we kept going things started to resemble our mornings. The traffic eased and the light faded. When we headed up Elmgove, towards Angell St., it looked like it does in the morning; the bank illuminating it from a half mile away. I’m not sure I’m sold on evening running, but there is not as much as a difference as I would have assumed. Tomorrow, when we head out at 8, the roads will be much as we left them this evening.

Bermuda Triangle Challenge

What a trip! I’m not sure this blog will do any justice to what we endured in Bermuda, but I feel as though I must try. We arrived on Thursday and had planned a run on our own. Those of you knowing me well are right in laughing and saying “yeah right”. We toured the pubs of the island and cursed at those runners who passed us!

Friday was our first of the 3 races, the mile. This was going to be a biggie. I’ve talked a lot of smack for the last several months about blowing my husband out of the water. The race was at 7pm. I tried to get him drunk and it did not work, his will power was stronger than I had given him credit for. The mile was a loop on Front St. in Hamilton. 2 turns on a fairly level surface. We got the road early for 4 miles of warming up. After the first few passes, I felt good. Ran out the nerves and felt like I looked better than Joe, he was going down! At 20 of 7 we were split into groups of 50 and would start in waves 4 minutes apart. We were in the same wave. It was now of never, the first group was off and then the second group. Oh shit, we are next! I saw the first few finish with times just over 5 minutes, that’s really fast. Before I knew it we were at the starting line, and we’re off. I took off, eyes on the turn up ahead, I saw Joe zip to my right and pull a few steps out in front. I’ll catch him in a few. Around the first curve and up the longest straight away. This is also on a slight incline. He remained a few steps above but at some point my focus changed. I was a machine, going as hard as I could. Passed by Sue and heard her words of support. It was getting tough now, I was feeling slightly nauseous. Before I knew it there was the 2nd turn, once I was around that point, it would only be a quarter mile to go. I saw him hit the curve first and realized I wasn’t going to get him. I pushed on and to my surprise started to pass people. Hey, I’m going to finish! There it was, the finish line, maybe 200 yards, one lap around the track. I left it all on the road and moved as hard as I could. With a mile time of 7:35 I can’t complain that I came in 10 seconds slower than Joe. It means there will have to be a rematch next year!

Saturday morning was the 10k, less than 12 hours after the mile race I was in my hotel room questioning my own sanity, was I really going to go out and run another race. I have no choice, pulled on my lucky socks and headed to breakfast. My legs were stiff and resistant to the idea. The cab dropped us off at the sports center around 9 in the pouring rain. This is the type of rain that I refuse to run in at home and I had now flown 2 hours and paid money to run in it here. Go figure, how’s that for karma? We had an hour to mill about under a cement overhang and dread what was around the corner. At 20 of 10 they called us to the start, I got soaked heading there so it didn’t matter anymore. 10:00 sharp the gun went off and off we went. I braced for the pain and didn’t have much. We pressed ahead, the hardest part was the hills. Take running the hills on the East Side of Providence and double it, that’s what it’s like running in Bermuda. There are no flat straight aways. God help me. At mile 2.5 we hit what felt like a half mile up hill stretch. I can’t tell you what the scenery looked like, I had my head down and eyes on the road. My sneakers were full of water. Ok, the down hill, I can coast here for a while. Things were going well. Joe and I ran side by side, the competition of last night over with. Then we hit the mile 5 hill. This sucker was not very long but it was straight up. I dug in. A woman in front of me stopped half way up, I called to her to keep going we were almost done. I don’t know if she heard me or not. Before I knew it I had reached the crest, it took several minutes to recover. The crowd started to yell that we were almost done, “see the stadium lights, you are right there”. They neglected to mention that between myself and the finish line was another god damn hill. I didn’t have much left in my tank, but kept going. Just as we reached the turn into the stadium, it was like a hurricane descended upon us. The rain and the wind picked up, you could barely see the road in front of you and the wind made me feel light on my feet I reminded myself this was a VACATION. Finally the finish, Joe grabbed my hand and we crossed together. 1 hour flat. 2 races down 1 left.

13.1 miles left. Sunday morning I was scared, what were we thinking. A half marathon is no simple feat and we had just spent the last 2 days racing on this terrible island where there are no flat surfaces. My quads were pissed off. The only bright spot was seeing the sun. It was gorgeous outside, for a moment I questioned bagging the run and hitting the beach. We headed to the starting line. How bad could it be? We have run these distances before, no problem. Finish this one and there would be nothing left to do but celebrate. The gun went off at 8am and at 8:01 I was ready to quit. My legs burned from toe to hip and I was 5 steps into the damned race. As I continued to put one foot in front of the other I thought about quitting. It was too painful. I didn’t want to injure my self. The problem was Joe and Sue would understand why I stopped, but would all of you. Everyone I knew was aware of the three races. How could I say, it was too painful and I decided to quit? I couldn’t so I pressed on. It was hellish. The pain was comparable to what miles 16 and 17 felt like during the marathon. Up and down many of the hills from yesterday. At some point I though the pain would dimish, but it wasn’t happening fast enough. Joe had taken off from the start a head of me. I looked up and he had come back for me, but the ass was taking pictures of my pained face! Oh well, at least if I died he would be here with me. I pushed on and as the pain subsided I realized the beauty of the place we were running. It had been beautiful all week, but now with the sun out and running along the water I was awed. How lucky am I? It was like paradise with the crystal clear water and green foliage. Things moved along for several miles, I thought about how cool it was I was doing this. 20 miles in 3 days in 3 races. I’m an athlete, this is hard core. I started to feel an overwhelming sense of pride, then I hit another hill and cursed myself for signing up for this. At the bottom of the hill a woman offered me an orange, it was the best tasting orange I have ever had in my entire life. I don’t know what it was about the orange but I put it on my mouth and fireworks went off. I knew I would finish at that point. Just before mile 11 the crowd got louder. I smiled, thinking I was the cause of their cheers, I must have looked good. Ha! Just then several bikes passed me on the right and then I was lapped. The male winner of the marathon jetted by me! He would finish running 26.2 miles before I would finish my 13.1. If it wasn’t one of the coolest running experiences ever, I would have been disappointed in myself. Joe snapped a picture of him and I cheered as loud as I could. In under 30 seconds he was gone. One mile to go, I got this one in the bag! Once we ran by the hotel I knew I would finish, alive. With renewed spirits I began to make a fool out of my self and yelled to anyone cheering that I was close. My show caused such a stir that a member of the crowd followed me for a quarter of a mile taking pictures and laughing at my antics. We crossed together at 2 hours and 30 minutes.

I can check the Bermuda Triangle Challenge off of my list. I am also researching knee replacement options!

Sidelined

As I sat in the truck this morning waiting to see if anyone else would arrive, I couldn't help but let my mind wander to the possibility of no one showing. I bet my bed was still warm, and if not it wouldn't take but a few mins to warm it back up. But then I saw someone jog into the bakery, there went my dreams. We got out of the car and I felt a soreness in my right thigh, I noticed it after last nights run but was being too stubborn to admit it could be anything. The short walk across the street was a quick reminder of how cold it was going to be for our run. 15 degrees and I didn't even want to know what the wind chill was making it feel like. 5 of us braved the frigid air to get our miles in. After a quick chat with the others we took off. Joe and I held our place proudly in the back of the pack. At one point he commented that it was good we had each other or we would be running alone. Turning onto Angell St, I immediately felt the cold, I should have worn 2 pairs of socks. It was unbelievable to me that we had just started what was planned to be 14 miles in this. Turning onto Gano St the group broke up and I could barely see Nich bouncing along far ahead, I settled in. Last weekend I took off too fast and paid for it in the end. 14 miles is not a distance to race, it's a distance to conquer. Crossing over to Wickenden we tackled the first hill of many, and made quick work of it. We've run up it countless times. I glanced longingly at Reflections Cafe, not my favorite coffee shop but anything would do at this point. A nice hot chocolate with some whipped cream, maybe that would be my reward. Heading down Hope St, I noticed that my leg wasn't feeling right. By this point we were a mile and a half into our run and for the most part my body had adjusted. My hands and face had gone numb and all the kinks from my earlier runs this week had faded to the background. My thigh was another story, it hurt. For a minute I questioned stopping but then I didn't want to let anyone down, that and I felt I needed to get my miles it. It had been a difficult week in terms of running and regardless of the temps today, it was nice to be back on the roads. We were running a familiar route and I was having a good time. We passed OMAC which is normally our start/stopping place and I had a bounce in my step. Heading down Hope after cresting the hill at Doyle was another story. The pain began to grow and was becoming unbearable. Just as I thought I was going to stop, the road flattened out by Rochambeau and the pain subsided some. What to do? Can I tolerate this for another 12 miles and if I do what damage will it do? Stubbornly I continued. The pain was worse at every downhill and getting worse as the miles ticked on. I tackled the hill at East Ave, knowing full well that I was going to pay for it on the way down. I noticed Joe was lagging behind and took some time circling half way down all the while my thigh feeling like the muscle was separating from the bone. At this point I knew that 14 miles would be out of the question, the problem being now that I was 6 miles from my car. Joe joined me and I disclosed my secret, I'm injured. Thankfully he was having an off day as well and happy to cut the run short. Regardless we had to get back to the car and it was too cold to walk. The next hour we were quite the motley crew painfully running back to Wayland Ave. At one point on the blvd we ran back a group of runners and I was almost embarrassed to be seen limping along like I was. Finally making it back to the car it felt terrible to even walk on it. We rehashed our run over coffee and yogurt, I knew what I had to do. Call the coach. He gets a little touchy if injuries aren't reported pronto. As I pulled myself out of my chair in a manner similar to that of an 82 year old woman with osteo-arthritis I kicked my self for being such a stubborn ass. I knew at the start of the run I was hurt but ignored it. After a consultation, the most likely diagnosis are some minor tears in the muscle. The treatment, stay off it for 48 hours and no high heels. Great, I might as well be sent to the hospital, cut the leg off. Tomorrow and Monday I'll hit the pool and hopefully it won't impact the mile race that is scheduled for Friday evening. I will not forfeit!

Running Hump Day!

I made it! I officially have less left to run this week than I have run so far. Similar to Wednesday's at work, you are on the downhill slide. I'll admit I've been whiny about it this week, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. No mind you it's a long tunnel with 14 miles to run tomorrow and another 6 on Sunday. Before I ran tonight I was getting my hair cut and chatting about our upcoming Bermuda trip when the girl in the chair over heard me. "You're running a half marathon". "Yep in Bermuda" "That's great I have been training for the Providence Marathon". "Me too!" and the conversation went from there. It's amazing to me how runners seek each other out. Two people who would have never spoken to each other, bond in a matter of 3 sentences. I attribute this to the level of understanding we have for what running takes and gives to us. That girl has probably had great running weeks and terrible weeks and could understand what it meant to be doing 3 races in Bermuda. I know what she's going through with the marathon training. I makes me think we would be in a better place in the world if all the leaders were runners. No votes cast until a 6 mile run to clear the minds!

Stuck

I think I am stuck. I may be over running. I'm sick of it. What to do?? Part of the problem is that this is my 4th week of increasing my mileage in a row so my body is tired. I have 31 more miles to run this week. After this week I have a recovery week and will be doing most of my running along the Bermuda coast. But to get there I have to finish this week. The other issue is that I have a tempo run hanging over my head like a death sentence. I was supposed to do it today, didn't happen. I have backed myself into a corner and have to do it tomorrow. I don't know why I am so nervous about it. All I have to do is run 6 miles at a 9 min pace. Completely doable, although will require some effort. It won't be a run around the neighborhood and peer in the windows type of run. It will be a head down, heavy breathing, completely focused type of run. But still I don't want to do it. I have never liked tempo runs. It breaks my rule. I'm a two speed type of runner: 1. walk 2. run. A tempo run means that I have different gears, it means I have to do math, it means I have to pay attention. It means it is no longer just for fun. So why do it? I know I can. I have a coach who will call me on Sunday and ask how it went. It will help on race day. I guess I should not have pushed it back to the end of the week, it's like an exam hanging over your head or a phone call you don't want to make. It makes me laugh because it doesn't matter how I do tomorrow. It's going to be 5am and no one will know but me and Joe. We all know I'm not going to win the next marathon, but the pressure is unreal. I wouldn't be me if I didn't make it into a big deal and get worked up about it, I do it to everything. Here we go again! After tomorrow I won't be over running, I will no longer be stuck.

As an aside those, of you who check out runner's world online, I have to admit I fall into the running ninja category. Although not a proud label to wear, it sounds kind of cool!

Change of Pace

Upon awakening this morning I found the ground covered in ice. Now we had anticipated this and the contingency plan called for us each to take turns on the treadmill. Didn't happen. Instead I napped on the couch until it was time to go to work. Throughout the day I thought about running and more often excuses not to run tonight. Conveniently I found 2 errands to run, but still there was enough time. Besides if I didn't get some miles in today I wouldn't have made my goal for the week. It had stopped raining on my way home from Whole Foods so I thought about taking Mia out with me as Joe was still at work. A careful review of the roads changed that plan. The sidewalks were still covered in a grey slush like mixture that would soak my shoes and running on the road was out given the large puddles that cars were hitting full speed ahead. Could life get any worse?? An after work run (terrible), shitty weather (even worse) and now the only option was the TREADMILL. God I hate the treadmill. Got home and made up my mind. I had 30 minutes before I had to turn the chicken, so the dogs got some peanut butter bones and down I headed to the dismal basement. When I turned on the TV there was a commercial so I turned on the i-pod while I warmed up. After a while I felt myself really pounding this run out. Clearly, I was running out some frustration. Not a bad thing, so I cranked up the volume and the speed and knocked it out. I envisioned the mile race in Bermuda next week and tried to imagine the energy I will feel when I speed across that finish line before Joe. I envisioned myself at the Providence Marathon coming in under 5 hours and feeling better than I had at the Breakers. Most importantly I was not in my basement on a shitty day. At the end of the 30 mins I made it back upstairs to turn the chicken and get the rest of dinner ready. I felt light on my feet, relieved from the days stressors. Normally a morning runner, this type of energy late in the day is somewhat foreign. I enjoyed the run and the escape it gave me but will enjoy pounding the pavement tomorrow at my regular time with my regular crew.

Cold Morning

26 degrees. That's what Frank from channel 10 told me before I left the house this morning. We got out there and it was cold but at first didn't feel that bad. Heading up Charles St. to Mineral Spring things started to settle it. It was cold. On Mineral Spring my eyes started to burn. Mind you this was all before we were 1 mile into the 7 miles we set out to do. I turned my ankle a little while later and as I walked it off there was a sense between us that we could turn around and head home. Some nice expresso would make us both forget about how terrible it was. The trick with moment like this is that we can't vocalize it to each other. Without a word we picked up the pace and started down the road. This was a new route following Mineral Spring into Pawtucket and turning onto Lonsdale to North Main. The biggest excitement of the 7 miles was being a witness to a car accident. Some dummy pulled out onto Mineral Spring (not looking) and slammed into the person coming towards us. There were a few seconds of excitement and then those involved in the accident took off in separate directions. Heading down Lonsdale we ran past the Hope Artist Lofts and saw a sign about a winter farmers market on Saturday's. If I can walk after the 14 miles we are scheduled to run on Sat, I plan to check it out. Heading down North Main was brutal. I could see Charlesgate well before we reached it. It was here that we ran past the only other runner we saw that day. There was no awkward runner's wave, heads down plowing forward, cursing the frigid air. Finally down Randall Square towards Charles, getting close now. Running past a bus stop we drew some odd looks from those waiting for the bus. I would stare as well, it was too cold to be outside by choice. Once we it Borelli's bakery I knew we would finish a half mile to go and wouldn't you know "Eye of the Tiger" started to blare out of my i-pod. Perfect Timing. It was a cold run but we finished and are that much further along in our training. Getting ready for work, Kelly Bates informed me that although it was 26 degrees the wind made it feel like 19. I just spent 70 minutes outside in what feels like 19 degrees by choice. Who says running isn't an addiction?

The start of a new training log

Who knew how thrilling it would be to enter my first run into my training log of 2009. Too bad it took me until the 3rd to do so, excuses, excuses. We did 13 miles today. Started at the Edge Bakery. I took off with a faster woman from our running club. As I felt my calves burning I knew I couldn't keep the pace for the entire run but I wanted to see how far it would last. Unfortunately once we turned onto the Blvd we were running into the wind and once hitting Alfred Stone it was covered in snow. I held the quicker pace for 5 miles or so. At that point Joe was happy to chat with a different runner and took my place as I felt behind. We had to alter our route slightly due to the road conditions. After dropping off a compadrie at the Edge again we headed down Elmgrove and picked up our familiar morning route. At this point Joe and I were on our own and tired. At 9.5 we ducked into a restaurant entrance sucked down our Gu, whined a little about the cold and the snow and took off again. At this point we were too far in to turn around. Down on Hope St the wind picked up and was now at our backs. At one point I thought it was going to lift me off the ground (good thing it was blowing from behind). Gano was our last hill and it felt like we were climbing Everest. FiNALLY the last stretch down Angell St. We were both surprised that we finished it just seemed to go on FOREVER!! A challenge for our first one of the year is appropriate given the goals we have for our running this year. Bring it on!

A New Year and still running

It amazes me how committed to running Joe and I have become. To think that prior to joining the running club I had never gone more than 3 miles and even then needed to stop and walk. Here we are a year and a half later, completed one marathon and training for the next. I don't know why we have caught the running bug, I don't even really like running that much. It's painful and time consuming but the rush is addicting. Last Wednesday we ran 4 miles on the road and then hit the track for a tough indoor workout. After I felt like a million bucks, there was nothing that was going to bother me for the rest of the day. It's funny because growing up I was never a sports fanatic, but I am hard core about the running, reading the sports pages to catch the times at the latest race or meet, following the running blogs and websites.

Back to what this site was meant for and that's to talk about actual running not my new found habit. We got the training log from Bob on Wed for the Providence Marathon and I'm more than a little intimidating. We will peak our mileage at 55 miles per week and keep it there for a few months. This week I'm trying to get in 41 miles and that's proving difficult, I can't imagine 55 miles. On top of that we have long runs weekly with 6 runs being 18+. It's time to run all over the state again!! Then there are the training runs, ranging from tempo runs of 9+ miles to repeat miles and halves as well as indoor work. I knew it would be tough training with him, but am I ready for this? I have no choice!

Today we were scheduled to run 10 with 5 being at the Hangover Classic. Lucky for me there were wind chills of -10, which cancelled all outdoor activities from my perspective (that and I was nursing a hangover that had us both out of commission for most of the day). That means the great debate is on...do I run 10 before work then 13 on Sat and take Sun off or run 7 tomorrow and 7 on Sunday...I'll let you know how it plays out!