Six point four.

Every time I run, I learn life lessons. I feel like sharing my hard won wisdoms, peeps. I will refrain from using my Yoda voice. You are welcome.
One, skunks are supposed to be nocturnal. Supposed to be is the key in this sentence. I know they are not solely nocturnal because I saw them do their crazy drunken little waddle across my path while running. yes, I said 'they' as in plural. Cute little creatures that struck the fear of God in my heart. I didn't know whether to run faster or freeze. So I froze, crouched with my hand wrapped around Humperdink's twitchy little mouth. I figured a bite from his wicked sharp teeth was preferable over a skunk shower.
Two, tiramisu before a 6.4 mile run is just idiotic. Seriously, it borders on masochistic, because tiramisu does NOT sit well when you are trying to keep a certain pace. I must have assumed that since it was a mother's day gift from the monkey girl, it wouldn't count. Phhhhhth.
Three, grabbing the wrong iPod can have a detrimental effect on a pace. Love my Jack Johnson and Blue Merle. Bonnie Raitt gives me goosebumps. Keb Mo is my inner soundtrack. But for running? They simply suck. I'd rather drink a glass of wine to Donovan Frankenreiter than run to him. Jack Johnson makes me want to lay in a hammock on a sunny day, not put my arse in a higher gear. Two miles in and I was really missing Fergie and Andre 3000. Duly noted.
Four, running 6.4 miles after an eleven hour, mind-numbingly long day is a victory in itself. I really wanted to come home, change into my Jammie pants, lay on the couch, and drool over Jax on TV. Instead, I changed into my gear, slipped on my shoes, and took off. I talked myself into the fact that the couch would be there when I was done, but the daylight would only last so long.
 "Do or do not. There is no try." -Yoda
(Ooh, come on. You knew I was going to slip a Yoda-ism in on you. Peace and mush, cupcakes!)

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