Nothing says I love America like waking up before dawn to run a 10k and drink an unlimited amount of beer all before 10 am.
My boyfriend, Alex decided the night before he and his friend would like to ride a 50-mile bike ride up near Scripps Ranch, lucky for me, there's a 10k I can run - he says. Unfortunately, none of my friends want to wake up and run with me. I start having second thoughts about doing a race that will only take me an hour and then waiting for him to finish for another two hours.
"Lindsay, there's a beer garden. You run in homemade sandals. You'll make friends."
Too true.
So race morning I'm still digesting my Carl's Jr. breakfast (good for long bike rides, not so good for short and fast runs) at 6:50 am, racing to the starting line so I can register before the gun goes off.
After the marathon, I've been pretty comfy at a 10 minute mile. Too comfy. I decide I'm gonna pick up the pace. The thing is, I completely SUCK at pacing myself.
Good thing, my sandals are conversation starters and I start one up with a guy who has a Garmin. He informs me we're doing an 8:30. At the 5k marker.
This is the fastest I've ever run.
End up finishing around 52 minutes. Which I think earns me a beer. Or two. Or three. Or...well who's counting?
Now that's what I call a Happy Independence (From Rules) Day! /../../../modules/smileys/packs/Roving/party.png
My boyfriend, Alex decided the night before he and his friend would like to ride a 50-mile bike ride up near Scripps Ranch, lucky for me, there's a 10k I can run - he says. Unfortunately, none of my friends want to wake up and run with me. I start having second thoughts about doing a race that will only take me an hour and then waiting for him to finish for another two hours.
"Lindsay, there's a beer garden. You run in homemade sandals. You'll make friends."
Too true.
So race morning I'm still digesting my Carl's Jr. breakfast (good for long bike rides, not so good for short and fast runs) at 6:50 am, racing to the starting line so I can register before the gun goes off.
After the marathon, I've been pretty comfy at a 10 minute mile. Too comfy. I decide I'm gonna pick up the pace. The thing is, I completely SUCK at pacing myself.
Good thing, my sandals are conversation starters and I start one up with a guy who has a Garmin. He informs me we're doing an 8:30. At the 5k marker.
This is the fastest I've ever run.
End up finishing around 52 minutes. Which I think earns me a beer. Or two. Or three. Or...well who's counting?
Now that's what I call a Happy Independence (From Rules) Day! /../../../modules/smileys/packs/Roving/party.png
