- i head out, nervous & sore - contemplate crossing street so i don't have to pass scene of crime again, but figure i must face it head on. hopefully, i won't literally be facing fear head on again. been there, done that.
- defiantly (somewhat) run by same spot. stopping FULLY at alley to check for cars. none. keep going. runs take a lot longer when you make full stops at alleys. but i guess it takes even longer if you get whacked by a car. lesser of two evils is way to go.
- this run is the most miserable run of my whole life i think ... am totally shell-shocked & freaked out by every car and more sore in more places than i realized or cared to admit.
- around mile 5, the cheese that had snuck its way into my big mac (how the hell did that get in there??) exacted its' revenge & sent me into a gas station loo, where i sat there, willing the cheese to make a hasty exit (it did not - just sat in my gut - mocking me for eating it in the first place - dairy hates me), thinking i would need to call my husband to come get me. (lets preface the whole big mac thing - because clearly, this is not an optimum meal for training - it is, however, my optimum hangover remedy ... had the weensiest little hangover due to the one glass of wine too many to celebrate the mere fact that i was not in traction, or worse - thus; a big mac).
- now, i have never been here. this place where i thought i could not finish a run. i didn't like this place. its sad & lonely.
i sucked it up & kept going. 9 miles ... all the way home. every. single. mile. sucked. even the one i walked.