It’s been a week later now, yet I still feel waterlogged.
Running half marathons was something I swore I would never do. I still have this love/hate thing going on with running. I mean, I do love the feeling of running outside over a boring treadmill inside, but at times I would rather be eating Fritos and pizza on the couch. I know how that would turn out though, as I would resemble Jabba the Hut on his worst day. Oh, that reminds me, I must go see the new Solo Star Wars flick as it looks pretty decent. As long as the dude playing Solo doesn’t turn out to be another Hayden Christensen/Darth Vader which was god-awful at best.
Over the past two years that I have adapted a running regimen into my fitness training I have overcome many obstacles. Every person who runs goes through the same mental and physical stumbling blocks as they persist onward in pursuit of their running game.
Pretty much this is a snapshot of my progression –
Can I get motivated enough to get off the couch when that bag of Cheetos is seducing me?
I hate running!
Why does a 5K have to be 3.1 miles?
What do you mean there are no beer stands along the way to the finish line? I must wait until I’m done?
That was the thought that ran through my mind as the wind ripped across my back, and sent a shiver down to my bones, as if Mother Nature herself pummeled me with snowballs. The weather had been a bit warmer here in NYC, so I decided to jump into the NYCRUNS Cocoa Classic 5K in Riverside Park on a Saturday morning a few weekends ago. Well, warmer by winter standards as it had been in the 30’s and 40’s most of the week leading up to the race. I had no clue, as was the case with many of the other race participants I encountered, that the temps would take an overnight nose-dive into the teens. At race time it was 19 degrees, with a wind chill that made it feel half that. Also, considering it was already windy and the race course was in the park along the water, surely made for a mind-numbing frigid run. Thank goodness it was a sunny clear day out.
Delicious guacamole, and the salmon special on a bed of plantains was just perfect. I scarfed it all down while enjoying a damn fine Mojito. My taste buds were singing. My belly was happy. My gluttonous desires were completely satisfied.
My gal totally gushed over the chicken mole. That mole sauce was righteous! Oh, and they don’t skimp on the portions. You go home full after a meal here with a food baby in tow.