Ah yes, the day when a slice of pie is a socially acceptable breakfast, and a volumetrically
attractive option to a typical meal. "A whole bowl of cereal? Are you nuts? That can't possibly fit in here. Now a slice of pie on the other hand..." Same calories at a fourth of the space; thank you, density.
My breakfast was actually two leftover crescent rolls and a coffee, not because I don't consider the traditional a good idea, but because I'm gearing up for a run.
I ran yesterday, too. When I announced to some friends Wednesday night that I would be running in the morn I was assailed with disdain and shunning. "You're going to go running on Thanksgiving? I'm pretty sure that's un-American." My Americentric response back was, "Yeah, but if I go running in the morning I'll be hungrier and then I can eat more." That seemed to assuage their McCarthyism. However, while that statement is true, my reasons for running were much more sinister: I just like to run.
We know from previous posts that I don't always want to go run, and some days I make myself go run, but most days I genuinely enjoy it, and I rarely regret running after I get back. Doing the better part of eleven miles enhanced my holiday not because I felt better after doing it, nor because I felt less guilty about having two Thanksgivings (Goncus at noon and Wolfe at five), but because I had fun roaming about the countryside.
I would like to mention something before I am again accused of being mentally challenged. Eleven miles in the grand scheme of things is not all that far (ref. http://schizorunnia.blogspot.com/2011/07/new-land-distance-record.html). But something I forgot to mention in that post is it's all about the pace.
Running three miles all-out is much harder than running eleven miles at the slow plod I was geared at yesterday. At least physically, anyway. Mentally it may take some adjustment, but at a certain point you can run forever if you just slow down. Because I was more worried about enjoying myself yesterday than getting in a good workout, I didn't stress over my speed. I went at a completely comfortable pace; the only moderately painful part was the hills in the last mile that are an unavoidable consequence of running from the in-law's house. See the diabolical cul-de-sac:
View 2011-11-24 08:18 in a larger map
attractive option to a typical meal. "A whole bowl of cereal? Are you nuts? That can't possibly fit in here. Now a slice of pie on the other hand..." Same calories at a fourth of the space; thank you, density.
My breakfast was actually two leftover crescent rolls and a coffee, not because I don't consider the traditional a good idea, but because I'm gearing up for a run.
I ran yesterday, too. When I announced to some friends Wednesday night that I would be running in the morn I was assailed with disdain and shunning. "You're going to go running on Thanksgiving? I'm pretty sure that's un-American." My Americentric response back was, "Yeah, but if I go running in the morning I'll be hungrier and then I can eat more." That seemed to assuage their McCarthyism. However, while that statement is true, my reasons for running were much more sinister: I just like to run.
We know from previous posts that I don't always want to go run, and some days I make myself go run, but most days I genuinely enjoy it, and I rarely regret running after I get back. Doing the better part of eleven miles enhanced my holiday not because I felt better after doing it, nor because I felt less guilty about having two Thanksgivings (Goncus at noon and Wolfe at five), but because I had fun roaming about the countryside.
I would like to mention something before I am again accused of being mentally challenged. Eleven miles in the grand scheme of things is not all that far (ref. http://schizorunnia.blogspot.com/2011/07/new-land-distance-record.html). But something I forgot to mention in that post is it's all about the pace.
Running three miles all-out is much harder than running eleven miles at the slow plod I was geared at yesterday. At least physically, anyway. Mentally it may take some adjustment, but at a certain point you can run forever if you just slow down. Because I was more worried about enjoying myself yesterday than getting in a good workout, I didn't stress over my speed. I went at a completely comfortable pace; the only moderately painful part was the hills in the last mile that are an unavoidable consequence of running from the in-law's house. See the diabolical cul-de-sac:
View 2011-11-24 08:18 in a larger map
And now that my small breakfast is digested and this post is done, it's time for some more. If I find anything exciting, I'll let you know =)
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