When it takes half an hour to drive to the nearest grocery, you don't just go for milk. And you make sure you're aware of the weather for the next few days as well, since the trip might have to be the stock-up-or-die kind.
Which pretty much means you're always aware of the weather. Knowing that today's forecast is for that good old wintry mix, followed by a couple days of cold temperatures, while yesterday was geeeeeee-orgeous, I switched the long run from Sunday to Friday. Did nine miles at an 11:20 pace. When I checked the time [not to the second; I was using the iPod clock] at the halfway point I was shocked to see I'd only been running for 50 minutes. I seriously thought it was going to take two hours or more to do nine miles; I finished in 102 minutes.
Yes, I'm sore and tired and I don't feel like doing much of anything today. The day after the long run is always a rest day, but if I can knock off the three miles I didn't do Thursday and take a rest day tomorrow, that will put me back on schedule.
Are you as mixed up as I am? Do you care? Heh.
Thanks so much for your thoughts about The Secret. May I just say that ask/believe/receive didn't work very well during the Scrabble game I played with Mr. Shrinking Knitter yesterday? I got good letters; I guess I forgot to ask for good places to play them.
The author supposedly maintains her 116-pound weight eating whatever she likes. I'd like to know what 'whatever she wants to eat' looks like. I think we're all in agreement that good nutrition is important in any weight-loss effort. As I commented yesterday, if we asked to be satisfied with healthful food, that would certainly be a step in the right direction. So if Byrne ever reads my blog I hope she'll tell us what she eats. I can only bet she doesn't have hot fudge sundaes every night before bed.
Speaking of good, nourishing food, I tried the Crockpot Rotisserie Chicken recipe Anne posted a couple of days ago. Wow! Easy-peasy and delish! The leftovers will make a lovely chicken noodle soup for today's dinner, which we'll be eating about the same time the wintry mix makes its appearance.
Or I could ask for it to work its way north and skip the Middle of Nowhere altogether.
Film at eleven. Heh.
Eight weeks until race day.