Another month, another visit to the runfessional. I swear, sometimes these posts just write themselves. Thank goodness for yet another opportunity to cleanse my soles. Marcia opens the runfessional on the last Friday of every month. I have to say it really feels good.
Let's get right to it!
I runfess... I do not understand the allure of Swedish Fish as fuel during running. Or at any time for that matter. I recently republished a post about race mistakes and Lisa shared an experience with chewing Swedish Fish while trying to smile for a race photographer. Her story reminded me that on my recent flight out west, Swedish Fish were handed out as the inflight snack. Umm, that would be a hard NO. They have no taste and are impossible to chew. I want to keep my dental work intact, thank you very much. Plus, chewing and running is HARD.
So is the act of drinking and running, which I have also never mastered I don't know about you, but I always have to stop to drink during a race. I runfess I discovered during my recent Fluid Running 10k, I cannot pool run and drink either. Clearly, I am lacking the essential skills for success.
I runfess... when I went to the pool for my most recent Fluid Running sesh, I forgot to pack a few essentials. Like my flip-flops. Walking barefoot in the locker room? EWWW. Even worse...when I got out of the pool I realized I had also forgotten to pack a towel. Thinking I'd have to pull my clothes on over my wet skin, I spied the paper towel dispenser and yep, dried myself off with paper towels.
I runfess... that I find a lot of interesting things by the roadside when I'm running. On a recent Friday morning run, I stopped to examine this package along the frontage road. SO MANY QUESTIONS! I found something similar a few years ago. Who just flings these things out the window of the car? And I can I ask about the red bra laying next to it? What is the backstory here?
I runfess... that it is no big secret I like to work out alone. Over the years, I've had people want to run with me--remember that neighbor who used to wait for me at the end of his driveway? The one I had to break up with and tell him 'it's not you, it's me'? Now it's happening to me at the pool. I'm tethered to the ladder, headphones in my ears, minding my own business, splashing away in the corner, and the pool people are drifting over to me on their noodles, making small talk. The worst is the man who just floats in place, only his head above the surface. This week he kept floating backward towards me. I picked up my pace, hoping that the turbulence would push him away.
