I don't know what I'm doing...I doubt I know how to write (although I am one that subscribes to the romantic notion of being a writer-figure that one out Freud!)
Someone I know only through blogging suggested that I should start. Not sure I have time since the rest of my time is spent sleeping, working, running or staring at the kitchen wall.
So might as well do something else I don't have time for.
So might as well do something else I don't have time for.
I am running my first marathon this weekend and haven't run enough in my training.
My gawd! Do you know how much mileage you have to rack up in order to do this stupid thing?... Lots. Aaand you have to be dedicated and commit the time and eat properly and get enough sleep. Pfffft! I say! I'm a shift worker, I never get enough sleep!
And I'll be hurting come Sunday I know that. I just want to live through it and say I've done something that 99% of the world hasn't. Nah nah nah boo boo! At this point I just want to do one, come in at whatever time I do (figure around 4:30-4:45) and then I can start working on getting my time down in the future. When I started training for it months ago. I had yet again the romantic (mushburger at heart) notion of qualifying for Boston. Since then reality has slapped me upside the head and let me see what I am not physically able to do (just yet). Pains and aches aside, it will be a challenge. I am apprehensive and neurotic/obsessive about it.
I am also hopeful that I will one day write something that people will want to read and fall into a routine that the blog shall shape itself appropriately and not just have me blathering off with no real substance to say. Otherwise why post this stuff.
Fine! Mr Sarcastic! Piss off yourself. And stay away from the potted plants. You little sob.
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