Slow Loris

I was still a little full from last night when I woke up today (kind of gross, I know), but I REALLY felt like I should go on a run after not having done anything that closely resembled exercise in almost a week. I ended up waging a torrential war against the warm bed for the better part of an hour before committing.

I ran the two mile loop around our house (that, I swear, has certain legs that are slanted ever so slightly upward). I was running fast. I was listening to motivating music. I was panting and oxygen deprived. I felt mildly ill when I finished.

I looked at my watch.

17:42:75

What the heck?! That’s practically a 9 minute mile pace. And I feel like I’m dying.

Because I’m stubborn, I did what any normal person would do. I jumped in my car and drove the loop that I had previously only routed on g-maps. The trip odometer read 2.2, but the roads take wider turns than the sidewalk, so I think 2.1 miles is a pretty good estimate.

8:44 miles.

Oh snap, I’m slow.

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