run, janelle, run!

Shut up and Run.

10 miles left.

Thishasbeenacrappyday.IwishIwasinTahitirightnow.ItwouldbeawesomeifIactuallygotpaidwhatIwasworth.

Whydon’tthesepeoplemoveoverandstophoggingthetrail?

Peoplewithdogsareobnoxioussometimes.NotevenamileinandI’moutofbreath.Awesome.

Ineedtoremembertocallmymomlater.                        WhatwasitthatIwassupposedtosubmitforthatdeadlineagain?

Ishould’vewrittenitdown.                IhopeIwroteitdown.Ineedtogetanewpairofrunningshoes.

IwonderwhatIshoulddofordinnerlater.Ihatecooking.Iseriouslyhatecooking.

GladIspentallthatmoneyoncookbooksforthemtocollectdustinourkitchen.

HowmuchmoneywouldIhavetobringineachmonthinordertopayoffthatstudentloanbyJuly?

Ishouldaskforaraise.Ineedtogetmyhairtrimmed.Ishouldmakemoreofaneffortinthefashiondepartment.

Stupidtrailhoggers.Thereshouldbeadedicatedtrailtimedevotedtorunnersonly.

Iwonderhowmanyrealhillsareonthistrail.Ishouldcountthem.

8 miles left.

Theweatherisactuallynothatbadtoday. I’m so glad that Spring is almost here. I hate feeling cold all of the time. It’s SO much better once I get to this part of the run…less people- or just enough that you don’t feel like you’re out in the middle of nowhere. It must be hard to pedal up these hills on a bicycle.

5 miles to go.

Remember to drop your arms and lift your knees on this hill. That breeze f e e l s  s o  g o o d . . . .

3 miles to go.

. . . l e g s  f e e l  s t r o n g . . . l e t ‘ s  c a t c h  t h a t  p e r s o n  u p  t h e r e . . . .

1 mile left.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  I  c o u l d  . . . . . . . . . . .

 

. . . r u n  f o r e v e r . . .

The runs usually start out the same…I’ve got a million things on my mind. But then, a couple of miles into it, my head quiets down until all I’m focused on is the rhythm of my breathing and the connection that my feet have with the ground. I am moving through wind and time, propelled by my own stamina and strength through these beautifully wooded trails…and as each mile is tread under the soles of mud-caked shoes, I suddenly realize that I don’t want it to end. I want to keep going…as long as my body will let me. -jv

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