Remember how I was all into that running thing about a month ago and then I never talked about it again. One might have thought that I stopped running entirely after realizing that it was still cold in Chicago and that running in the cold makes everything hurt a whole bunch. Another might have thought that I just quit mentioning it because who really gives a rip how many miles I ran, the number of minutes, and how many smoker jagbags I encountered whose toxic fumes made me ack-ACK at the first whiff of smoke?

The second person sure is nice for thinking that I�d spare you the details, but the first person would be correctomundo with their guess.

Lorinda has guilted me (therefore Benito too) into running the Chicago Quarter Marathon. Because a quarter marathon is 6.55 miles and I�m a 2.25-mile kinda woman, I figured I should give this whole training thing a try tonight.

Bah-humbug!

When I run, I run an 8-minute per mile pace. I really don�t run any slower than that. I�ve timed myself, done fancy calculations, and navigated by the stars to triple-check myself, but I�m even running 8-minute miles when I think I�m being a Slowsbury McJoggerson Extraordinaire.

Running 8-minute miles is not too shabby. Unfortunately, I peter out around mile 2.25.

However, tonight�s run was a wee bit worse (as I start with my fingers a couple inches apart, think about it, and then stretch my arms all Stretch Armstrong style to better indicate my wimpiness), as I tuckered out after one wussy mile. Determined not to be a fake runner and only do that mile, I turned around and headed back out there after that. I let myself walk an 1/8th of a mile, and then I went back to the running, finishing off that second mile as the clock�s ticks showed that had I not walked that 1/8th of a mile, I�d be on pace to run another (drum roll please) 8-minute mile.

From the looks of it, I�ll carry a big sign at the Chicago Quarter Marathon, standing on the sidewalk, cheering others on. Packsawallop described the scene of a race quite well, and she�s dead-on about how hokey I am at this stuff. If I can�t run the dang 6.55 miles, I might as well contribute to the atmosphere.

Shhh! Don�t tell Benito. He�s working a lot right now and likely won�t read this entry for a few days. We�ll let him run with the herd while I paint myself with glitter and hold up a big ol� sign to cheer him on.

Sneaky, sneaky, sneaky.

Speaking of being sneaky, the decent players on my summer volleyball team have suddenly been transformed into the less-than-ideal squad. Since when is making one�s serve over the net or returning the other team�s hits really that big of a problem?

Since yesterday apparently.

One player and I are already talking about how we�ll play with each other on a 2 vs. 2 team next season instead of the mediocrity that was yesterday�s 15-1, 15-7, and 15-0 games. I�m sure there will be more Stooge Ball updates as the season goes on. Whee!

Oh yes -- Something else I can tell since Benito isn�t reading. Tonight was pizza night. I was supposed to make my fresh dough with this spectacular sauce I made the other night. However, when I dumped out the flour container�s contents, there wasn�t nearly enough to make a pizza. So no pizza for me. Instead, I heated up the sauce and ate it with the rest of my crackers. It was actually quite tasty.

Benito just called. He got the scoop on my run and how there�s not going to be any Chicago Quarter Marathon. His response, �The first run back is always the hardest. See how tomorrow goes.�

Damn him.

Oh yes. Quick shout out to s/he who goggled hello chicagojo. Quite cute. I�ve seen your IP address around. You should let yourself be known.

Time to do my last grocery shopping before moving. I�ve gotta get some cat food (they don�t like my leftovers), cat litter (they don�t stop shitting), and some Smirnoff Ice. Apparently my dad is off the Crown Special Reserve (his previous preferred drink for painting) after a particularly nasty fire incident that involved the backyard ablaze, and he�s requested beverages of the frosty type to get him through two days of painting.

At least it�s something I�ll also drink. I still have a half bottle of Crown from when he hung some shelves for me.

G�nite all.

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