Kinda interesting when "to failure" occurs on the first rep. Ouch. Did a little workout on my lunch break with our trainer here at the office and ended up in the fetal position of failure once or twice. I think I dropped a few four letter words as well but that's not a big surprise. (This is something I'm working on).
Got my run on this morning with my Thursday am running partner - starting things back up again. I was pretty pumped as we made our way down the sidewalk chattin' it up. Passed along the highlights of Norah Jones, discussed the Wilco CD he borrowed from me (and returned insulated in paper towel and little plastic baggie when he met me running this morning), and recapped his Twilight race and recent workouts. Felt pretty smooth during this run but was a little more tired than I'd like to be on a 5.5 mile run. Good news... I mapped my run when I got home and it turned out to be 6 - so there. Longest run since I've come back. No, I'm not going to stop counting those.
Speaking of Norah Jones. I have to make a comment. She sang a pretty wonderfully rockin' song about her dog being her only man of the hour and so on. Two things:
1) What kind of dog would the likes of Norah Jones have?
2) What man in his right mind would lie, cheat, or argue with the likes of Norah Jones?
Just thinkin'.
I've always wondered these things when listening to Ben Gibbard, Connor Oberst, and Chris Carrabba - who breaks hearts like these? But you know what? I'm kinda glad they did... because the music that evolves out of heartbreak and heartache and gut-wrenching tears on the pavement is the kind of music I get into. I let it float around in between my ears and I soak it up in my skin and I let it light my memories afire. This is the kind of music I get into. A few eggs cracked to make some omelets of musical genius. Keep 'em crackin loves. Keep 'em crackin.
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