The animals are lining up two-by-two and the Ark will be arriving soon in Central New York. It has rained for days! I can't remember the last sunny, not a drop of rain, day. Our grass is miles high, the weeds have taken over the world, and the mosquitoes are multiplying faster than the Duggard's. I am ready for the blistering hot sunny days. Even though, I will be bitching about how hot, dry, etc., it is by the end of the summer. That is just that way it goes! I just wish I could start bitching NOW.
All this rain makes training for a marathon a little depressing. Mother Nature is being a total buzz killer! Take Tuesday's hill training for example. The group starts out on our 15 minute warm-up. In a beautiful park, dodging mosquitoes (hate those little bastards), enjoying the evening. Kevin has us line up two-by-two (do we see a theme here) to run hard up the hill and easy down. Let me explain this hill:
Narrow path. Branches to take out eyeballs. Gravel. Long, steady climb. Take a sharp left.
Shout SONOFABITCH because now you have to dig those heels in deep to get up the steep incline to the field.
Kevin. Is. Evil.
Beginner's do this for 10 minutes. Intermediate -15 minutes. Advance - 20 minutes. Guess what group I fall into? 10 minutes into it I am so jealous of the beginners that I am thinking of puking on their sneakers. But that isn't very lady like or being a team player. Instead I call them every name in the book (in my head).
As if this workout isn't bad enough. Try doing it in a torrential down pour (ha, ha, that sounded dirty). It was raining so hard at one point I couldn't see! Literally, I was wiping the rain out of my eyes as I was staggering to get my soggy wet ass up the hill. The suckage of this was HIGH.
15 minutes go by and I hear a huge clap of thunder. After peeling myself out of tree, I see Kevin hauling ass down the hill with he rest of the group, yelling, "that's it! practice is over!" Apparently, God thought we were idiots and sent a bolt of lightening down to get his point across.
The group huddles under the shelter, stretches and we head to our cars. Which, by the way, is a quarter mile down the road. At this point I don't care. How much wetter can I get! When I get to the van I realize how much of an asshole I am. Didn't have a towel. Didn't have a clothes to change into. Nothing. I strip down to my sports bra and head home. To the truck driver at the light....you're welcome for the free show.