Black Friday Indeed

Anyone who says running is not mental is dead wrong.  I say this because the willpower it took me to do my post-Thanksgiving and Black Friday workout was tremendous.  I woke at 4 a.m. to get the Black Friday deals, and I was quite possibly the least pleasant human being alive.  There were fuzzy slippers to be worn.  I had gained approximately 527 pounds at dinner the previous day.  There was still a tin full of glorious pumpkin that promised me joy and whipped cream bliss in my fridge, but I found myself lacing up my Nikes and heading up to the track anyway.  Though if we're being honest here, it was mostly so I could justify eating more pie later.  But still.  It has to count for something.
This workout began with me sadly accepting that I wouldn't be able to run in Park City, and trying to figure out where to do my warmup, since I almost never run in my hometown.  Then began the sad trudging that almost passed for a jog along the rail trail.  Mud stuck to my shoes, turning them into bricks of failed potential and sadness that made a gross *shluck* noise every time I took a step.  I seriously contemplated driving home after the warmup, making justifications as I drew nearer and nearer to the track.  By some miracle, I gritted my teeth, tightened my braids, and walked up to lane one.

Accurate picture of how I felt after my warmup

The first 1000m interval did not go at all as I'd hoped.  I blamed it on my compression socks, and because I was too lazy to take them off, I peeled them off of my calves and scrunched them up around my ankles.  It's called fashion, look it up.  I was glistening with sweat at this point, and my headphones were bouncing with every step, which annoyed me far more than it should've.  The pie was calling.  I ran the second interval, and it didn't feel any more pleasant.  My resolve was weakening.  "Just do one more," the little devil on my shoulder said.  "Three is more than enough.  Besides, there's pie."  I was nodding along with him up until the little angel on my other shoulder backhanded me and yelled, "Snap out of it!  You'll do these intervals.  You'll do them and like them."

Here we have an interesting specimen of a post-workout selfie

And do them I did.  I even had enough energy left after to take a post-workout selfie for this blog.  And go over to J-Cub's house and play Halo with him then beat him up when he shot me with a rocket launcher.  You are capable of so much more than you think.  Especially when you are fueled with rage because your boyfriend has been screen-cheating.