Bathroom talk and other musings from today's run slash sauna

Life’s too short. Running makes it seem longer. Ha. Ha. Ha.

I barely notice hills anymore. Sometimes.

The world would be a better place if more world leaders ran, preferably on quiet wooded trails with nothing but their own thoughts and maybe some Springsteen who I swear must be a marathoner because he totally gets me. Plus, I think I ran next to him for part of Boston.   

Thinking about Boston 2014 is a great way to randomly burst into tears.  

It’s possible to cry and run uphill at the same time.

There are no hills at the beach. Wish I was at the beach.

The Maine Turnpike would make an awesome running trail, except for the traffic.

All highways/ main roads should have adjacent bike/ running routes. With shade. How cool would it be to say you ran up to Maine? Wicked cool. You know I'm right.  

Wouldn't this be an awesome 90-mile run?   Lots of smiling sweaty runners out there today.

 

When other runners smile back at me, I feel awesome. Double awesome when it’s a young hot dude. Triple awesome when it’s an old runner guy/gal.

One of these days I’m going to strap my phone and a couple of water bottles onto my waist pack and run until I can’t run any more. Then I’ll call home for a ride. That would be a great blog post unless I only make it a couple of miles, then not so much.

I have lately become a running bling person and I’m surprisingly okay with that. Yup. Running charms, running skirts, and even the occasional matched outfit, emphasis on occasional, and matched according to my own definition, i.e. the soles of my socks are the same color as the logo on my hat which clashes with my shirt but once matched my bleached out shorts.  Sometimes I even brush my hair before I run. I know. Such a diva, right? 

How could I not buy this Beecause Sneaker Charm? My shoelaces needed this and my wallet needed lightening because races aren't expensive enough. Said me never. So I bought two more. 

I haven’t bought anything at my local Dunkin Donuts in ages, though I can vouch, based on my weekly visits, that the bathroom is quite clean.     

I will always love the Papa Gino’s the next town over because when I was training for Boston I’d stop in there to use the bathroom and they’d offer me water and say I looked great, those sweet lying bastards.  

Speaking of bathrooms, there is absolutely nothing wrong with making sure your long run includes forested areas.

This is where my drinking water comes from. I run here too. As in run. Nothing more. No hidden messages. Just. Run. Really. Drinking water. Okay?

 

I dream of running cross country, as in literally running from state to state, so I’d appreciate it if you highway folks would get those trails ready for me pronto. Please throw in some pines, maples, bushes (nothing with thorns) too.  

The longer I wait to write about Boston 2014, the more I forget. Like, I think I stopped to use the bathroom, but maybe I didn't? Oy. Better get started soon. Here we go: Don’t postpone joy. There. I began. More to come.