RUN rhymes with FUN, but it's not.

On Monday, it took me about three and three quarter hours to get my household up and fed and dressed and off to school, get checked in with my internet world and my human world, accomplish a few tasks at work, and start to plan the day’s lunch. In those same three and three quarter hours, my sister ran the Boston Marathon.

Not this sister (still desperately no-go in Nogales)

THIS sister. The one with the triumphant wave.

Isn’t she studly?

You may or may not know this, but YOU (no, no, not you. YOU) and ME (yes me) are all signed up to run a 12K next month. That’s about 7 miles, right? This is what the super stud said about 10 miles:

“The nice thing about turning it around at Mile 16 is that it's only 10 miles to go. 10 is doable, and that number keeps decreasing”

So it’s nice to have 10 miles to run. Isn’t that nice?

The idea of me running the 12K is so funny; it actually makes me Laugh Out Loud. You would laugh too, if you were inside my head during one of my “training” sessions on the treadmill. The thing about running, especially on a treadmill but also anywhere else, is that it’s so boooooooooring. I just get completely trapped in my own little slice of hell, and the only thing I can think about is how long I must suffer until it is over.

On the treadmill, I play little games to distract myself. I constantly change the pitch and the speed to keep it interesting. I try not to stare at the numbers, but I can’t help it! I can’t read with all of the .... you know, RUNNING, and I don’t have an ipod so I find myself trudging along to the soundtrack in my head, which for some reason is always “Come on Eileen”. Remember that song? I’m not sure if it enters my subconscious because my pace is like the beat or because of that part of the video when all the people in overalls come running toward the camera.

But that’s what I’m hearing. And seeing. I need an ipod.

The good news is that this run that we are going to do in May is just one tiny little portion of a weekend trip we are taking with 10 other women for a very special occasion, and the race itself is sort of famous for its nakedness and for having Bloody Marys at the water stops. How many miles/cocktails do you think it will be before YOU (not you) and ME (yes me) get naked?

Next time I train on the treadmill, I’m going to incorporate some of this.

ME