And I’m not happy about it. (Rest of the title was too depressing and long to put in the title box).
Boston was great. It was more than great. It was a lot of eating good food, drinking good drinks (can anyone say bubble tea?), and catching up with old friends.
Yay good friends! Yay dance parties! This was taken somewhere between attending a dance party.
Notice I didn’t say anything about running along the Charles River? As much as I would have liked to say that I woke up early to go on runs along the beautiful river (I might be on the Southwest website looking at tickets back up to Boston), I didn’t. I just ate and shopped until I felt like puking.
Sorry but I am not sorry. I will never give up delicious hot chocolate at Harvard Square in favor of a run. Does that make me a bad runner?
But really I had a great time. If you haven’t been up there yet, buy tickets immediately, people. And then email me. I will hook you up with the best places to get hot chocolate and bubble tea.
Yesterday, I attempted to get my Jabba the Hutt self (a week of continuous eating will do that to you) out of my apartment for a leisurely 4 mile run. That was a disaster. Apparently, if you hear distant rumblings of what may be thunder, you should probably stay home.
I’m not very smart. I headed out for a run.
But not before taking a selfie. Who has her priorities straight? This girl!
A mile out from my apartment, not only did it start pouring, it started lightning. Not just the flash and the sound, but actual lightning strikes that I can see coming from the sky to the ground. Not knowing what to do, I just kept on running in the general direction of the apt until I couldn’t anymore, because the rain was strong and stabbing my eyes.
I thought I was going to die. I kept on debating on running near trees or away in the open roads. I figured it’s easier to dodge a falling (lightning struck) tree and chose a route close to the trees. I tried to remember everything I can about lightning that I learned from science, but I couldn’t science. Scared Rena is not a rational Rena.
After the longest and the scariest one mile of my life, I got back to my apartment and collapsed onto my couch very wet.
That is not a happy sweaty face. That is scared out of mind, drowned rat face.
Today, I just ran on the treadmill for 3 miles. I probably could have ran outside, but I seemed to have developed a slight PTSD with outdoor running. But it gave me a reason to do crunches and sad little planks. 30second is the most I can hold a plank now, but you have to start somewhere, right?
Now you tell me: What was the scariest run you ever had? Did I science right? Open field where I’m the tallest is bad in a storm, right? Tell me I’m right!