The weekend’s plan was to run 10 miles on Saturday and Sunday to prove to myself that I had it physically and mentally to train for the California International Marathon in early December. I made it through the first 10 but today cut it down to 7. Does this mean I am a failure, that I don’t have the right stuff? Call it a ridiculous rationalization but I think I am still good to go. First, I have a golden rule that I choose to ignore when I feel super motivated after reading an article about Lance, or I feel bloated or when I read an entry by some random blogger I follow on their latest amazing workout or race. I get all steamed and say lets do some big volume of training, like 10 and 10. My golden rule is don’t run more than eight miles more than once any week. The golden rule is both to prevent injury, which I am susceptible to when I train for marathons, and burn out (I was fried after the Saturday 10). So I obeyed by brain but not my ego. But ego will be back in force this weekend when I try to do 12.
An expression I am getting completely tired of is “in the spirit of bipartisanship.” It is back in full force, Obama being the offender, as in “I will examine Paulson’s plan in the spirit of bipartisanship.” Does this mean he is doing it to appear bipartisan, that he is considering each side which he normally doesn’t do or that he is doing it because it is the smart thing to do? Obeying the spirit of the law doesn’t necessarily mean you are obeying it. Spirit of anything is up there with expressions like “no offense (you are about to be offensive), “I am too busy to do it,” (you have no interest in doing it) or “let’s get together again soon” (let’s stick to seeing each other every 15 months).
I spent yesterday with Murphy, a coworker’s cocker spaniel. He is an awesome dog but he doesn’t talk. I have never really spent time alone with a dog. I had a cat growing up and they are not particularly social animals. They check in every now and then but don’t really invite conversations. Dogs are social; they are constantly in your face, demanding your attention. It was just Murph and I alone for about three hours and I found myself uncomfortable with the silence between us. At first I tried to make conversation but I got sick of the stone cold silence that followed my questions. I know dogs don’t talk but if you are going to be so social and love attention, you gotta give me something.