Now that Kat is healthy again, we're back in the swim team carpool routine. I sat around for a while this morning, alternately glaring at the track and reading Tina Fey's "Bossypants", and then I dragged my butt onto the track for an easy 2 miles. I attribute the copious amounts of sweat produced to the humidity rather than my exertion, which was medium-hard, at best.
Felt really good to run on the track again, instead of up and down these dang hills. I wonder why I resist it so much? I know exactly what will happen--the first lap is like WHY? and then around Lap 3 I'm thinking WTF AM I DOING THIS FOR? and then I'm thinking WILL ANYONE NOTICE IF I QUIT? and then after that I settle into being happy. I was really, really happy at the end of the run today. Still feeling happy.
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