It’s been annoyingly windy all week.
Don’t ask me how I can tolerate running in sub-freezing temperatures all winter, but the minute it gets slightly breezy I whine and cry like a baby.
So lately a lot of my runs have been looking like this:
Wind? Makes me want to cry. And I can see people standing in their yards (they hatin’) wondering why that chubby girl is running so slow and I wanna yell “40 MPH GUSTS, BRO!”
I had a slight respite on Thursday, when I ran four miles in Eagle Creek in unbelievably calm, warm conditions; yesterday I screwed off my run completely (I’ll get to my excuse in a moment); and today I ran eight miles in what I’ve deemed a very mild hurricane.
So yeah, I would get down on my knees and kiss a treadmill’s squishy rubber track right about now.
I don’t ask for much.
Anyway, let’s rewind to Friday night. More wind. I happen to casually glance outside to see the majority of our Bradford Pear is no longer vertical and instead, laying in the grass at angle that appears to have just barely missed the house.
Well, now some more of it is gone. So instead of running yesterday, I hefted piles of wood while my husband took a chainsaw to the fallen tree. (I begged him to wear a hockey mask but he refused.) We did that until it started raining.
Today, we’ll finish what’s left and then try to come up with some way to secure the rest of the tree, which is now leaning precariously toward the house and might not stand up to another storm…
OH OH OH AND RE: BOSTON?
This is important: I have no opinion.
But I always welcome any opportunity to stalk people online, so any of you who are running Monday, TELL ME YOUR BIB NUMBER!
And for the love of vodka, don’t forget to enter Angry Runner’s GIVE IT AWAY GIVE IT AWAY GIVE IT AWAY GIVEAWAY. You only have until Tuesday, April 19th at 11:59 PM EST. It’s probably the most important thing you will do all week.