I'm still working out, mostly running. And most of my running is on the treadmill. I don't know how much I should count that as running. It's more like trotting electronically. Its an electric trot. Yes, that's what I'm going to call it from now on. I have been going on 3 mile electric trots 2 to 3 times per week on a fairly regular basis. It's been awhile since my last injury. That's a big relief. Of course, it's also been awhile since my last race and I have been running more slowly in an attempt at avoiding further injury. I'm pretty sick of the whole constant injury thing. But I'm equally sick of running at a ridiculously weak pace.
I'm fartleking a lot now. It's not because I'm strong and free of the fear of injury. I wish it was. Its because I'm sick of running the same 3 miles on a treadmill while watching the same Seinfeld rerun in the same cinderblock room, day after day. I just want something to break up the monotony. Fartleking allows me to convince myself that the workout will end more quickly. It doesn't, but I feel less bored.
Other than this, Merry Christmas! If you're still reading this blog after so many have bailed on me then I owe you a Christmas card. If you want it, send me your name and address and I'll send you the Christmas card. :-)
