This is how I know I’m crazy.
Just a few hours after complaining about my sore calves and how much I despise running up hills, just moments after returning my ice packs to the freezer because my glutes no longer need icing, I get this strange impulse to look up my next running event.
Because, really, if I’m going to torment myself by running up and down these baby hills (which we’ve already determined is totally different from just walking) and get my body used to moving a few miles a day outside of a motorized vehicle, I’d might as well pick the next event and continue training for it, right?
Theresa seems to think I should be able to join her for the 12K race, which will be my goal (just don’t tell her that), but at least by then, I know I’ll more than survive a 5K.
But I’m not registering for it just yet. Let me get finished with this Family Fun Run first. It’s just good to know what’s next on the list.