Maybe a run on Thursday would have gone well. I was out a little late on Wednesday night, had trouble getting to sleep, woke up several times after that, and awakened early to work on my book. History has taught me that's a sign that I'm going to be on the struggle bus if I try to run. I took the chicken's way out and decided to mow the lawn instead.
This morning, Saturday, was a decent outing. I went 6 miles with walks every mile. I seem to have a mental block on that penultimate mile that meanders northwest around the big pond. It's usually with the breeze at my back and therefore I don't get any cooling relief during that particular mile. Once I round the corner back onto Lake Forest and go south I get a full-on breeze and it feels great. So today I made a conscious effort to run that mile and not walk halfway through. I did it.
The only downside to today's run was the last .17 mile as I entered the neighborhood. I walked up the Big Hill, as usual, and then as I turned into the neighborhood I felt a little nauseous. Nothing major, but enough to say it's time to walk it in. Maybe it was all the coffee. Or the humidity. Or something else.
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