I’ve been a boring blogger lately, haven’t I? It’s okay. You can tell me the truth.
See, lately, I sit down at the computer, log into livejournal and say to myself, “Okay, type something brilliant and clever. But quickly, because you have to get back to work.”
And then I wait for an idea. A brilliant, clever idea.
Nothing comes. Or I do get an idea, but it’s one of those thought-provoking types of entries that would take too long and if I’m gonna spend a lot of time writing, it should be on my novels. So then I say to myself, “Okay, type something at least mildly amusing or interesting.”
Like Miley Cyrus’ pictures. But no, I’m sure everyone is sick of the topic.
Ali winning on Biggest Loser? That was so yesterday. (Still . . . go Ali!)
My thoughts on this season’s The Bachelor? Nah. Not interesting enough.
American Idol? No, I’m still not watching it.
America’s Next Top Model? I miss Claire, even though she got rather nasty at the end. Go Whitney. There. I’m done. Not amusing or interesting.
Okay then . . . how about we settle for somewhat interesting? Ooo, I got it. I never blogged about the 5K marathon I ran in two weeks ago.
So. The 5K. It was for a great cause, Young Life, a teen Christian organization. At first, I was panicking because Bob and I couldn’t find any runners and I was getting late. (Being nervous AND late is not a good combination.) But, alas, we found it in plenty of time. There I am in the black pants and green shirt.
Before the start, they told the slower runners to stick to the rear. So, seeing how most of the runners were teenagers still in their youthful prime, I headed for the rear. My darling husband cheered me on at the start–this has been a goal of mine for nearly ten years–and we were off! (BTW, why hasn’t anyone told me I look like a chicken when I run?)
At first, I stayed behind the teens. But something came over me. My competitive nature? My desire to represent all almost-forty-year-olds? Whatever it was, something drove me to kick it into gear. I ran the first mile in about eight minutes, where normally, I run an eleven-minute mile.
I passed the teens. Go, 40’s!
But after another mile, some of them passed me. Sorry, 40’s. I’ve let you down.
Pretty soon, we’re coming back to the finish line. WAY too soon–I was only on the fifth song on my iPod’s play list. I crossed the finish line with a time of 18 minutes 30 seconds.
There’s no way on God’s green earth I can run 3.1 miles in 18.30.
Turns out the guys in the lead took the wrong turn, or the course was marked incorrectly, so we only ran about 2.5 miles. Bugger! I was a tad disappointment because now I can’t cross, “Run in a 5k marathon,” off of my life’s to-do list. (My husband disagrees–he says that technically, I did run IN a 5k and therefore, I should be able to cross it off. But I’m anal about these things and if I didn’t run the entire 5k, I can’t cross it off.)
It’s all good, though, because my son’s tournament schedule has been changed so I can run in this weekend’s 5k that I was initially training for. YAY!
Okay. I blogged. Was it somewhat interesting? Please?