Second, sorry for not posting for a while. I know you were waiting with bated breath. Grant and I went to Ireland for 10 days, so I actually missed 2 Saturdays of training. I did a little training in Ireland, in between pints of cider. Ireland is absolutely beautiful, but absolutely freaking cold, even in April. I had briefly tossed around the idea of doing a 10K race in Dublin on the first Sunday we were there, but waited too late and it filled up. When, at the exact start of the race time, I was walking to the Guinness museum, and it STARTED SNOWING, I felt I had made the right decision! I did get up early and do about 4-5 miles through Dublin. The hotel had a helpful 5K and 10K map of routes from the hotel. But since I can't read a map, I promptly got lost and just kept going in a straight line. Seriously, I missed the FIRST TURN on the map. I thought that big, impressive building on the corner was part of Trinity College, but it was the Bank of Ireland instead. All old famous buildings kinda look alike, yeah?
So, TRAINING. The week before, while Grant and I were shivering in Ireland, it apparently was blazing hot in Los Angeles, and people were dropping like flies during training. So this Saturday, I wore a tshirt, put on lots of sunscreen, and didn't wear my jacket. And therefore, it was cloudy and cool for training. Oh well, better than being 85 degrees at 9 AM like last week. I realized during the week that I was just going to have to wear the fanny pack because wearing the jacket tied around my waist after it gets hot is annoying. I put the fanny pack around my waist and cinched it really tight so it wouldn't bounce up and down while I walked. I looked much like this
But fashion must go out the window. The route this week was simple: 12 miles--up the hill the long, slow painful way, then back up the hill the short, steep, painful way. Fun! Also, that would be: Los Feliz to Burbank to Los Feliz to Burbank to Los Feliz. Que Loco! Irma, my walking buddy, was absent today. Hopefully her toe is getting better. So I walked with Cynthia and Barry, who are always just a little bit ahead of me, meaning I would have to pick up the pace a little bit. Even though Gretchen thinks 15 minute pace is lame, I was super excited. Of course, I'm not an ultra-marathoner, (nor will I ever be), and not even running, so 15 minute mile is sweet for me! And my legs and feet didn't start hurting until about mile 11.5, so I think I can totally make the half-marathon.
Squeamish people, quit reading. Alright, you know how I had the blisters on blisters? Well, in Ireland, they finally peeled off. There were actually 5 blisters underneath there! 5 BLISTERS! On Saturday after the 12 miles, I hobbled back to the car and put on flip flops and looked down where my blisters used to be. Holy crap, I had the biggest blood blister I'd ever seen in my entire life! You must see it!
Hurts like a bitch, too. And can't wear shoes. I'm almost a real athlete, here, people. Almost. Hopefully, it will go down/drain by Thursday for my walk with Lauren.
Only 3 more weeks until the race!!!
