Today was the first long run, of the really long runs. The 20s. The runs that bring you to that mental threshold, where only a 10k would be left. If you can finish these with lots in the tank, you can go to the line very confident.
Unfortunately, last night we got hit with a pretty significant dump of snow. There was the better part of 4 inches of the white stuff on the ground. Seeing as I still don't know the neighbourhoods that well, and the extra effort of lifting my feet out of the snow, and uncertain footing, and hills, all this added up to another treadmill session. Twenty miles without going anywhere. Doesn't that sounds like fun?
All told, it went pretty well. I'm sure the basement smelled lovely by the end, but I chugged through my eight hours (the clock claims it was just under 3, but the treadmill causes a tear in the space-time continuum, so it was much longer). The saving grace was my DVDs of the first season of the Muppet Show. 7 episodes, back-to-back-to-back-to- well, you get the idea. If the antics of Kermit, Fozzy and the rest of the gang can't keep you entertained, and a smile on your face at mile 18, then you've got some problems.
But then again, I sing "Happy Feet" to myself while I'm running, so I may be a bit biased.
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