A KC-tastic Run

This weekend Barb, Rego, and I ran with the folks on the KC TNT team. Take the kids out of the city and make them run in a swampy jungle and they don't know what to do.

We were all more than apprehensive about the 10-miler because of the oppressive Kansas heat...so we stayed hydrated the whole day while in Lawrence with Free State beers, Boulevard and greasy fried pickles at Jefferson's.

Man, I really miss campus and the wonderful town of Lawrence. Rock Chalk Jayhawk!




Sorry, needed to insert the obligatory Jayhawk and Lawrence tangent.

To our surprise the path seemed much cooler than the cemented and sunny path in Chicago. As we ran the stretches of tree and swamp lined path we got a nice cool breeze from the moisture coming off of the trees [have I ever told you I HATE

the word m-o-i-s-t? Even typing it gives me the creeps].

At any rate, it was one of those runs that make up for all of the painful, wish-the-end were here, runs that happen far too often. One of those runs where I solve all of the world's problems, wish I could keep going but I don't have any more time, runs. And most importantly, it was the run that for the first time in the past 9 weeks of training reconfirmed why I'm training for and will run this marathon. Get the point? Running really is the cheapest therapy I can find!

As the years away from college pass, I've found it very hard to receive feedback on, well, really anything. In school you have mid-terms, finals, teacher conferences, internships, and papers to give you feedback on how you're doing. Unfortunately, you don't have constant assessments like that in a professional setting. Running has served as my bar of measurement. Will I push myself to reach that next mile, or will I be satisfied with the average 3 miles? Running is such a definite answer. You either make it as far as you had hoped, or you fall short. No gray areas.

Saturday definitely surpassed my hopes for a good run. So much so that when Van Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl" came on I shouted the chorus at the top of my lungs. Rego played along in the sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-ti-da part. I know, lame...but fun.