Running outside is harder than running on the treadmill. This, of course, is because of the lack of SpongeBob. But I persevere.
It’s finally below 90, giving that “oh, it’s not so bad” feel at the start of the run. As contrasted with the “what is my name and why is the park spinning” feeling at the turnaround. But fun, in a please just let me die sort of way.
Sunny day, running on the waterfront, a smooth trail and friendly people. Pure hell.
But pure nonetheless. I’m running the same basic course as the local monotonous 5ks — out and back on a sidewalk. If I’m going sub-30 for a 5k, this is what I must do. Head down, sub-10. Not today.
I stay under 10 for the first mile and pretty much die the rest of the way. But it’s a start. As if there were a finish.
Now if I could just get a Garmin that plays SpongeBob …
3 miles, bbl, noon (84-68, 152)
9:55, 11:59, 12:36