OK…I’ll try to be as coherent as possible…but I’m trying to get this in before midnight. 
For yesterday’s run, we ran the same route that I did on Sunday. It wasn’t as bad as the run on Sunday, but it was still slow going. By the 30 minute mark, I was becoming completely demoralized. I was far behind where I was at 30 minutes at the previous run. My legs just kept going though. I tried to stay upright and smiling, but I admit it was tough. By the time I got back to the store, 50 minutes had passed, and I was completely ready to rant about how I sucked. However, the whole group was waiting at the stoplight looking quite happy. They were cheering me for making it back. I was about to announce how I was dying, but instead I asked: “how far was that?” The run leader looked at me and said “oh…just under 5.” I didn’t believe him at all because he had this horrible smirk on his face. He followed with “nah…that was really about 6.” He still had that smirk. That’s when I heard someone else say: “That was 6.8K!”
Well hell, no wonder I was taking so long. As it turns out, it really wasn’t the same route as the one we ran on Sunday. Back then, we followed the main roads. Today, we went through the winding trails, which added considerable distance. Honestly, I was happy I made it that far, but I was also feeling a little angry: that run was a bit overkill. Still, I now know I can make it that far–I just can’t do that every day (yet).
Today, we all planned on running an easy run, however, my body still hadn’t fully recovered from the hard run. This recovery run was kind of torturous. Most of us were running so slow. We were just way too tired. By the 3rd and 4th kilometre, I was struggling to keep up a mild jog. Well, physically, that’s to be expected, I guess. Overworking the system just leads to injuries. Everyone made it to the end, but we all knew that we just wanted to go home and take a good break from running. No more for now! Ugh.
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