Running and Not Running

I’m going to try and be a little more free form. I keep boxing myself in thinking I need to be a RUNNING BLOG and report weekly mileage and keep it super focused! But in actuality no one really cares (I don’t mean that in a self deprecating way) if I run 20 miles a week or no miles a week.

So this is a blog. About running. And not about running.

I’m slowly increasing what I consider my ‘minimum run requirement’ which used to hover around the 5K mark, and has now moved up to 4-4.5 miles. That alone is a personal accomplishment. I’ve also increased my frequency of running to 5 days a week, usually. My pace is holding steady around 8:30 for most runs, and can be pushed even more if I am really feeling good. I ran almost a whole mile at 7:45 on the treadmill. Almost.

Last Saturday I had signed up for a 10K trail race just because Scott was doing it, but morning of we both saw that it would be best for my mental state to stay home (more issues than Vogue over here). I’m kind of easily overwhelmed by labels I put on myself and NOT going to a race that would’ve been stressful (multiple creek crossings, ascents, descents… I’m not a seasoned trail runner) was actually the right choice. Scott meanwhile, won the 10 miler on feet battered by chemo. Am I a bad girlfriend by saying I’m not surprised? Trails are his element. Running is his element, cancer or no cancer.

Today I ran on the canal towpath and engaged in some childish competition when I intersected some college-y girls (this path runs right next to the Greek houses) who were looking pretty quick and I pushed myself to not let them pass me. I have no idea how long there were actually behind me, but I never saw them again. Take that!

I’d like to have another race on the horizon but all I can find are 5K’s which I don’t really want to do anymore. I mean, sure I could try and beat my 5K PR and see what kind of speed I can dole out, but I’m really looking to move up towards a half-marathon again.

In non-running topics, I’ve become really interested in cooking (says the one that would often eat Amy’s burritos that were still moderately frozen in the middle because, eh, why not) because that seems like a practical hobby. Will report.
 

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