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Di-a-Logue: Follow the marathoners from 0 to 26.2! Sat., Feb. 17 -- Week 3 I decided that our team is a biological being. Each time we go, the group seems to double in size like a cell. I have also come to believe that women are more innately compassionate. There is an overwhelming majority of women who participate in community service projects and activities for a good cause still many more XX chromosomes than XY. After resting and doing strength training 3 days the past week, I dared to run farther. Katherine and I ran side by side for about 2.5 miles. Then, we were slowed down by a dog. A leash-less brown lab was jogging along happily around its owners, taking up as much horizontal space as it could. At that point, I was tired (the 3 mile limit is always a struggle for me). Suddenly, from the corner of my eye, I watched Katherine swing from my right, behind me, to the left, keeping about 5 feet of distance, and then dashing ahead of me. I heard my heart go "thump" and my eyebrows lifted. What was the girl doing? Was I too slow for her? I saw her steal a few glances behind her. Then picking up her legs, she zoomed past several groups of TNT trainees. Meanwhile, I was doing my
best to trot behind the other groups. How loser-ly of me. Finally,
the adrenaline kicked in and I was off. As I ran across the overpass
to get to the stairs that led to the BU Bridge, I could see the pink dot
that was Katherine, bouncing towards the next bridge.
Later on, I found out that Katherine wasn’t avoiding me but worry free laborator. That was a relief. And as I watched the Pink K from the overpass, she saw my bridge sunny yellow legs (not because I was Asian but because I was too cheap to get a new pair of warm-up pants) rolling over the overpass.
Katherine went home this
weekend. So, I had to be a brave girl and go to practice alone.
The good thing was there were many Katherines on the team. Plus there
were plenty of pretty girls to meet but I’m not a guy. Bummer!
I messed up. Yup. I should have listened to the body.
This has got to be the earliest I've gotten up on a Saturday morning in a very long time – 7:30am. 7:45am: I wrapped myself in layers and ran to my little red Civic, perched quietly in the parking lot. The sun was barely out. I zoomed out into the street and rumbled down the streets that were still frozen in silence. I didn't think 7:30 was that early but evidently, given that no other cars were discernibly moving; I decided that it was indeed early. I must be a little insane... I remember that time in 3rd grade. It was the first day of marching band drum practice (I was in a special program for drum training which I only went to once then soon moved away). My heart thumped so hard that night I couldn't fall asleep. Although it was still dark outside, I convinced myself that it was time to go to practice. I rushed to get Grandma out of bed to make my favorite breakfast -- sunny side up. I got to school by taking the shortest possible route, climbing 15 ft fences and all. The air around me was misty white. That was it. No people, no animals, not even birds stirred. Finally, I looked at my watch and was completely horrified by my discovery -- it was 5:30am! So, I guess after all these
years, some things haven't changed. I'm still as crazy as always.
I still get high on the thrill of starting something new. But at
least, I could get the time right. And this time, I was late!!!
After running as slowly as I ever did, I arrived after 45 minutes. Four point two big miles for Sissi! While I was a big believer
in water and milk, I shunned all other drinks including OJ, coke, and especially
anything with caffeine. But boy did that orange flavored Gatorade
taste delicious. So, now I am a converted who swears by my Gatorade.
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