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Grand ambitions

I was a total SLUG yesterday. I blame the weather, but take total responsibility for blowing off the whole day. I was on the elliptical for 90 minutes Wednesday and couldn't bear the thought of doing it again yesterday. And it was just too cold outside (for me, but I bet you could have survived).

So as I was drifting off to sleep last night, I decided maybe today – when the high will be in the 40s – I could go long.

Back in my half-marathon training days, I spent most of my time on one of two mostly flat roads. I still spend a fair amount of time on the shorter one, which is a four-miler. But I haven't done the longer out-and-back route for years. I'm hoping to hit it today.
Interestingly, when I used to run this route I always thought it was eight
miles. According to, it's nearly 11. Now I have to walk
 there today to find out what my phone's GPS app says it is.
One of my favorite memories of running on that road was when I was training for the Country Music Half-Marathon in 2007 – my first half and, in fact, my first race ever. I went back to read the post I wrote on my old blog, and it's amazing what time can do to memories. It was six days before the race, and I thought I was going strong. I had planned to do 12 miles; turns out I quit after eight. I thought I was excited when really I was rather subdued. Happy? Not at all. A friend of my husband's had died the night before. You can read that post here, if you like.

It all comes down to mind over matter, though. I only wish I'd remembered that yesterday, when I was being all slothful and depressed. Ah, well, as Scarlett said, "… tomorrow (today) is another day."


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Well. Well, well, well. Should this morning's scale number be divided between two weeks, or did all of it happen this past week? It's an easy number to divide, and I've been consistent for two weeks, so it should probably be split, doncha think?

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