After sleeping in fits - kept awakening from weird dreams - went running at 630am with MF. We ran at a fairly fast pace to the Tufts track, did 2.25 miles there. The intent was to run up a few hills after this, but I crashed during the first hill. Mentally, I wasn't in it and I knew it. I tried to get back in the game, but it wasn't happening. I felt like a jackass for falling short on our run. Of course, MF was pleasant and understanding. We picked it up again after walking the remainder of the hill and down another. We wound our way up College to Broadway and back to Davenport at Mass.
I'd said: "so we'll end at the bottom of this hill?". MF: "I thought you wanted to finish at your house." Me: "Yeah. Okay." (Damn it, MF. And thank you.) He has a way of pushing me that doesn't feel like pushing.
9.5.10
5.7M
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