It was a cut-back day, a very good friend was back in town, and I finally got to hold a fundraiser. The plan was 9 miles, but I got 7 in. It was a bad morning to run: cool-ish for August but the humidity more than made up for that. Every runner I saw looked like they’d just gone for a swim in the lake.
I’m not really disappointed I only ran 7 despite a number of things going wrong: I hit snoozed a few too many times, I didn’t have all my gear laid out the night before and spent too much time hunting for the pair of shorts I wanted, breakfast was hurried and my stomach wasn’t ready for food just yet, I didn’t hydrate enough the day before, and I somehow managed to scratch my forehead while putting on my hat.
Sure, I’d like to have covered 9, but I felt stronger and ran a little faster. I ran up the flyover, sweating like mad, but I was still about to run it instead of taking a walk break part of the way through! I gave my self a mental high-five and picked up speed on the way back home. I know I’m supposed to reign it in and go slower during long runs, but I couldn’t help myself.
That afternoon, I had a fundraiser for Imerman at my old neighborhood hangout. The crowd was light, but I still managed to raise $500 with the help of my friends. I’d liked to have raised more. I’d liked to have had more people show up. It was a tough weekend with a lot of folks out of town or otherwise committed to other things. I hustled to get raffle prizes and it got to be a joke that people won multiple times. In any case, what money we did raise will go toward a good cause and I had a good time with my friends.