I haven’t written much about running, lately, since it seems pretty boring. I wish I had a way to spice it up (to tell you about the celebrity that I saw on the jogging trail, or the rare bird, or whatever) but the fact is I run circles around my neighborhood, and I’m usually just happy if I don’t see anyone at all.

But the other day? I saw a bunny rabbit. And sang “Little bunny foo foo” for the next two miles. By the end of the two miles the Good Fairy was ripping bunny foo foos testicles off for bopping the field mice, but anyway.

So on Saturday I was supposed to get up and run, and didn’t. This irritated my wife (a little) because my alarm went off at 4:38 AM, and while I was able to slip right back into blissful sleep, she was pretty much up. (insert “harumph” sound here). So Sunday morning I did not set an alarm, and I didn’t run either, since I woke up around 7:00 and we had a church obligation at 8:00.

After that, my wife said “So, are you going to run?” and I figured I hadn’t been since Wednesday, so I’d better go. “Just for a couple hours,” I said. Ha.

Ha.

It was a mere 82 degrees out, but the sun was blazing and I bonked. Hard. After only three miles and some change. I just couldn’t run anymore, so I slowed to a walk. Then I tried again, and made it maybe a half a mile, and just gave up for the day. Nowhere near the 8 to 10 I planned on. And when I made it home I was dripping sweat and about as weak as I’ve ever been after a run. (and my wife did not once say “that’ll teach you to sleep through your alarm at 4:38 in the morning,” which is just one of the reasons I love. her. dearly.).

So this morning, I set my alarm (but woke up by myself ten minutes early, so it never went off) and went and ran the same distance as Sunday but ten minutes faster and about 20 beats per minute lower. And it was good.

And between the two runs I sweat off about four pounds of water (or about half a gallon)