While I’m waiting for my solo show to print, I will let you know that I ran 12 miles yesterday. Isn’t that impressive?
I couldn’t wait to tell my wife, and then I remembered she gets bored hearing about how I exercise, and I began to think… “I need to find friends that want to hear me tell them I ran 12 miles.” Then I realized those people don’t exist, because no one really gives a shit. My son didn’t give a shit—but he’s so cute about being indifferent.
I averaged 9 minute/20 second miles. Which is fine. Think I ran for an hour and fifty minutes, which is crazy to me. When I was 30 I ran a half marathon (13.1), in an hour and thirty five minutes. Which is all to say I am getting older, and more pathetic. I like it though. I’m comfortable.
I had to stop at the 7-11 to buy something to drink; I got really thirsty around mile 8. I know I should bring water with me, but I think those belts that runners wear are not very stylish.
I also choked a bit while running and drinking. It is an art, make no mistake. One that needs practice.