Sunday morning, June 17th, Father's Day. The morning started like just about any other Sunday. My youngest daughter had a bad dream about a hippopotamus (she's two, it's the scariest thing she knows). I assured her for the 100th time that there are no hippos in her bedroom, and tucked her back in. Four O'clock in the morning is no time for hippo crisis! Shortly after 5:00 she called to us again, my wife went and brought her back to our bed to sleep. Unfortunately she didn't sleep more than about 15 minutes before she was giggling and gently kicking me and picking at my eyelids. Fortunately she is extremely cute, and she sealed the deal by hugging me and explaining to Mommy that "I love Daddy very much!". (BEST. FATHER'S. DAY. PRESENT. EVER!) So we all got up, and got our day started.
I got dressed, drank a cup of coffee, ate my breakfast, stretched, checked my route map, and headed out the door. I checked my route map. I did. I really did. It didn't matter. 13 miles into my run I made a couple of bad decisions and ended up adding an extra mile and a half to what was supposed to be a sixteen mile run. On the bright side, I guess I know what my 17 and 18 mile routes look like... if I can remember it.
I ate my GU at the scheduled intervals (4, 8, and 12) and had good energy throughout the run. I also finished my latest audiobook "Wild Cards II : Aces High", so I'm going to be starting Stephen King's "11/22/63" tomorrow. I hope it is as good as I've heard.
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