I am in one piece, and could've gone another few miles, but now know I can't run 10 miles and remain comfortable. About 7 miles into my 10-mile run this morning, I started repeating a line from the old guy on Kung Fu: "Mind ova matta, Grasshoppa." It didn't fucking work.
Actually, I felt fine, except for my hamstrings, which felt like the cords on Billy Jean King's tennis racket.
It surprised me to see I covered the River Trail course in 2:00:26. I would've guessed 2:10. My splits were 11:53, 11:25, 11:44, 12:24, 11:54, 12:56, 12:49, 11:42, 12:09, and 11:29.
I suck.
Oh well. At least the Packers won. Maybe the Giants will beat the Cowboys, and I will break 90 tomorrow. Both would mean more to me than a goddamn 10-mile run.
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