Running Sucks, I Rock.

I don't know how it is that sometimes, I can run 9 miles with giraffe, and it's glorious, and then other times, I'm flailing all over the beach boardwalk, for 10 miles - and it's the worst thing ever.  Seriously.  I was all over the place, slowing down, acting like I'm having cardiac arrest issues, trying to get water from sprinklers that unexpectedly shoot mist at your crotch area, stumbling around bars because I lost the beach trail.

There was an episode where I thought I would run along the water, gracefully, and be all, one with the waves.  Except it turned out running in the sand is hard, waves are faster than me, and sneaky.  Also, running in the sand sideways sucks, and, in general, I would make a terrible, slow crab that would get picked off on the first day of being crab.

At the end of the beach there was an old guy playing harmonica, and I didn't realize that I ran up behind him, determined to touch the rock wall like there was a prize for it, and scared the shit out of him.  He was knee deep in the water, being actually all - one with the waves, and I spoiled it.   I still had 2 more miles to suffer, so I didn't even apologize properly.  Sorry, old guy who almost lost his footing, and possibly harmonica.   You were very good before I got there.

I finished off my conquest of the Kaanapali Beach weaving the golf course, even after I realized they had games going.  I was still barefoot from the beach, I had tossed my shoes away  by the hotel (because I thought running back to that point was going to be 10 miles and was wrong), and I figured the somewhat likely chance of black out via golf ball was still better than the much likelier chance of gouging feet on asphalt.   My time:  2h, 6 minutes.  But I walked all of mile 4, at 18 minute pace (the sun had risen and I wasn't prepared for it) so, really, it's better than it looks.

Then I soaked in the ocean immediately after, and lazy jogged a mile next morning (yesterday) to make sure I wasn't totally broken.   And snorkeled, a lot, since I AM on vacation.   I'm OK, it turns out.  Amazing.

I was all but done with the running business, thinking I'd exchange it for snorkeling, until Mr Snork showed me a video of myself diving for sea glass.  It's not pretty.  It seems when I dive, I can never get either my ass or my flippers under water.  I look kind of like my hands are stuck in the sand, AND I'm getting attacked by a very mean fish.   Then I pop up, empty the mask, take a breath, and circle around looking for that piece I never did get, and it happens all over again.  That sea glass jewelry business idea will have to wait.

Today I made myself run the charted 5 miles, and it was totally fine.  All 53 minutes of it.  My fastest 5 miles ever.  I'm pleased.  Pleased that I made myself go, that Mr Snork took Mouse duty and cheered me on, that I possibly burned off the half pound of Nutella I ate earlier, and that I I kept a pretty consistent 10:xx pace  throughout.  I mean, I was dying in the end, and that cursed golf course is always in the way, and is not lit up at night, and my Ipod does not light up sufficiently to avoid sand traps, but whatever.   10:xx minute miles times 5?!  I should offer myself up for the Olympics.  They'd be crazy to pass all this up.

On a side note, why is there a swarm of people in the gym, looking longingly at the sunset/sunrise/ocean through the giant, sad glass window, every time I ran past the fancy Hyatt?    Come outside, people.  Leave the concrete.  Be one with nature.