I ran laps around a field this evening--no, it wasn't anything like Van Gogh's Bulb Field, though I was trying to imagine nice things and enjoy myself as much as possible. As I began my third lap, a very young man swooshed by me. It's not surprising that a young buck could do that, but this particular young person was--really soft. He had an hourglass figure, for cryin' out loud! He's the sort of young guy I used to be able to beat in races.
This made me feel so slow and ridiculous that I just wanted to hide.
Not that kind of hide. I suppose the reference to a young buck was confusing. Anyway, I thought, this could become my motivation to maybe maybe actually doing some intervals, just a short workout, once a week.
Oh, wait--on second thought, that's going to take much more energy and planning than I can possibly commit to. I mean, every time I try to get on a routine, I fall off.
And anyway, the very thought of doing those quarter-mile repeats is making me very drowsy. That's my volunteer word for today:
drowsy (adj) I've been working on the railroad, all the livelong day...Def: down for the rosy count, preferably in Van Gogh's field.
Bone is the pied piper of 3WW!