This week I ran 7 miles - my biggest mileage week since early April. Rehab is working. It’s not working fast enough, but it’s working.
3.7 of those were over 2 days with my mom in town. My mom is a slow runner and doesn’t care how fast she is, which is both great and maddening. Great, because I should care less about how fast I’m going relative to others. Maddening, because how can you not care??
Yesterday we ran up to the Brooklyn Half course so I could spectate. I didn’t have a poster because the drugstore doesn’t carry them any more (but what about the students?!) so I clapped my wrists sore and called out to folks. My mom had never spectated a race before and she was fairly flabbergasted by the 15,000 participants who streamed past us.
Also, I discovered that the best way to get people in the crowd to wave back at you is to be standing beside two adorable girls who had hand-drawn posters for their mom. I’m not a parent, but that’s the kind of parent I want to be.
I pretty much missed everyone besides veggielife, which is why I’ll be working on my prototype for an Internet singlet any day now. (I was watching for my run club friends and they were all super easy to spot because they had singlets on. What do we think, people? Neon orange? Silver?) But it looks like you all are happy with how you did! and that’s awesome.
After watching I had intense Race FOMO, especially when Mom and I went to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden and saw people walking around with their medals. (I usually don’t use that term, because… I don’t know, I try to be happy with my choices and not get hung up on BS like that. But it happens.)
So I decided to do something I would never be able to do right after a race: I got my first non-self-administered pedicure in, ah, maybe a year? I couldn’t remember the last time. It was fantastic. My toes can now be seen from space.
Even then I was consoled that I will be back on the road soon by the sight of my 9 perfect beautiful toenails… and the one nightmare one. (Notice this is not a photo post LOLOLOL) It doesn’t hurt, but seriously, how long can it just hang in there?
Now I use my beloved Tiger Tail and clean my apartment in a Superman shirt ‘cause why not.