I don’t know about you, but when I run long, my brain does some weird stuff. Super weird. So I thought I’d share some of that weirdness with you. I figure you’ll either A) totally identify and be my best friend for life, or B) think I’m even weirder than you did before. Really, I’m okay with either option.

Miles 1-6: Come on, legs. Let’s move. I know you’re stiff because I’ve worked you hard this week, but this is going to be one miserable run if you don’t get it together. (You know you’re a marathoner when it takes you six miles to feel warmed up.)

Miles 6-8:  (Planning my lesson on linking verbs for Monday. I am exciting).

Mile 8: These weeds are a lot taller than they were last time I was out here. I wish the county would mow them. They’re very poky. If I were a scientist, I’d name these weeds “stabbernum pokeynus.”

Mile 9: Hoooly buckets, that’s a big dog. With no fence. Big dog, no fence. Big dog, no fence, running at me. *begins shouting lots of unkind things at said big dog until his owner comes out and calls him in* I will now give that owner my meanest death stare. Through sunglasses. Because that’s effective.

Miles 10-12 (the hilly part): I’m getting stronger every step. I’m getting stronger every step. I’m getting…that mantra is too long. Stronger every step. Stronger every step.

Mile 13 (still hilly): Strong step. Strong step. Step strong. Strep song. Shlong schlepp. Forget it. Pancakes.

Mile 15: (Lots of profound ideas for blog posts that I can’t remember now and probably never will)

Mile 17:

(A colleague and I were just talking about this yesterday. He said this in the Office Space voice, and the kids didn’t get it. Why it popped into my head mid-run is a mystery.)

Mile 18: I’m going to run right through that girl’s senior picture. Oh well…there’s no way around. (When 90% past her) Oh, that’s one of my students. *awkward head turn* “Hi!”

Mile 20.3: A train?! Who put train tracks here, anyway? Uncool. 

Mile 21: What time is it? That’s right: chocolate milk time. But first I have to take this picture of my feet, because that’s what running bloggers do, and I am a running blogger, dangit.
(I tried to take it so you couldn’t tell that sweat was covering 90% of my body…fail).

Is your brain as random as mine on long runs?

What’s your favorite weekend breakfast? I ended up eating eggs and toast, not pancakes.