yeah. my legs and lungs have completely forgotten what it feels like to do speedwork or something like that. last nite we did repeats of the top part of Cat Hill (from the cat statue to the top by the traffic light) but we were supposed to sprint those babies. mind you, my legs didn’t even know how to sprint before i got injured, so you can imagine i wasn’t doing much sprinting now. pushed as hard as i could, but didnt even feel like it was good enough. (and mind you, Cat Hill wasn’t even my slowest mile on Saturday.) and i do appreciate the “good job” from my teammates and the coaches, but sometimes you just feel like shouting back “shut up, i’m not doing a good job, tell me what i’m doing wrong!” seriously…how are you supposed to improve if you don’t know what you’re doing wrong? constructive criticism and all that jazz.
in other assorted news and stories, FreshDirect seems to have provided some interesting suggestions for those of us who will be chugging a bottle of Yellow Tail chardonnay or some other wine by ourself on Valendoomsday. (link courtesy of Gawker and Gothamist.) i didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at that, so i did neither.
finally, on top of this January being one of the mildest on record (not that there is anything wrong with that! nope, not at all!) my office has decided to follow suit. i am sitting next to the thermostat right now that currently reads 78 degrees. i need a cold drink.