My bike is still broken. Friday after work I tried 2 different places looking for a new derailleur. Apparently sporting goods shops don't carry much in the way of bicycle parts. And bike shops close at 6 all week long. Why 6 I don't know, but it's very annoying. So anyway, my bike is still broken.
I planned to do a workout after work Friday night. Instead I stopped at Sonic and ate a hamburger. I thought I'd hit the gym Friday and then fix my bike on Saturday. By the time I'd gotten home and eaten supper it was after 8. I ended up sitting on the couch in front of the TV.
A small town adjacent to where I live has an annual craft fair and car show. I went to it today at around noon. It's a big deal for the town and every year the show/fair grows a little larger. This year was the largest number of cars that I've ever seen at this particular car show and the booths for crafts, etc, completely encircled the town hall. I was there for hours, just walking and looking at cars, taking photos, occasionally talking to people about their cars.
By the time I left the car show I was sunburned. In fact, I seem to be about as burned as a hot dog after its been on a stick and held over an open fire. I drove a half mile down the road and stopped at an Italian restaurant for lunch/dinner. It was about 4 o'clock. I ate a Stromboli and went home.
My bike was still laying on the back porch where I'd left it following the storm that I got trapped in when the bike broke. I picked it up and rolled it into the shop out back. There was no point in leaving it out if I wasn't going to have new parts to fix it with for awhile. Then I reluctantly put on my running shorts and shoes and went out for a run.
It wasn't particularly hot outside, but with my sunburn I couldn't seem to tell exactly what the real temperature was. I ran for maybe a mile. A deer in the field next to the road suddenly leapt up and started running through someone's crops away from me. I wasn't doing very well, but it's normal for me to struggle the first mile. What isn't normal is what began to happen in my abdomen. I was rumbling like a volcano. I started up the cascading hills when I heard a car coming down. These hills have a lot of blind spots because of the way they're formed. A runner is easy to miss until your car is directly on top of him. There isn't really a shoulder for me to step off to. It's just ditch and snakes and things.
My sudden rumbling inside wasn't going away. I decided to cross the road before the car came down and killed me and start running back the way I'd came. I was fast developing an emergency need to take a crap and I was out a mile from the house on the same stretch of road that my bike had broken on and left me stranded in the rain. I ran a little and decided that if I didn't want to crap in my shorts it might be best for me to stop and walk. I don't ever walk when I'm running, but this seemed like a special situation.
I walked until I was nearly at the base of the super hill, the short, very steep hill that I like to run my sprints on. At this point I had to run. I figured this was a crap workout and I wasn't going to get much out of it, but at least I could run my favorite hill. I straightened up and got up on my toes. I tried to stride like an Olympic runner, with perfect form. That's how I felt, but I'm sure I looked quite a bit different to anyone else who might've seen me. Still, I managed to run up to the top of the hill without crapping myself and that was an accomplishment.
Once I reached the top I had planned to walk, but it was all downhill after that for a ways so I decided to just cruise and keep jogging along. I jogged to the bottom of the hill and then turned north onto the connecting street. I jogged along until I reached the bottom of my own street. I was slumping down and running with pretty crappy form at this point. I decided I'd straighten up, focus on my form and stride to the first telephone pole. After that I'd walk to the house as a cool-down.
I walked all the way up to my house and started to walk past it to finish my cool-down. But I heard something behind me. It was a strange sound. I finally turned around as I was well past my house and in the process of passing my neighbors' house. There, out in the street chasing after me, was my retarded cat. And she was making strange sounds at me. Maine coons don't really meow much. They don't have strong voices. She was meowing as much as she could, apparently panicked that I was leaving her behind again. She had followed me across the yard when I had first started out for my run and I left her behind somewhere on my street. I hadn't expected her to be waiting for me. My cat is a stalker.
She and I went into the house and I sprinted for the bathroom. While I sat on the toilet I had a chance to look at my arms and legs. They were a lot more burned than I had realized. I was a lovely shade of purple. No wonder I was feeling so bad. This was a crappy run. I don't think I accomplished much. And now I'm burned, too. I have a race in 2 weeks and I've got a lot of work to do. This isn't a good start.