Of you don't know what that means, watch Saving Private Ryan again, actually-- hell, watch that movie again even if you know what FUBAR means. And yes, I did steal that term from the Trilogy Running boys, but my running was hell today. Even though I ran at 6:30, it was 90 degrees outside. I ran with the TC running group, but lets back up 5 minutes. 6:25, and shit, I've got to run with the club. So, I threw on a pair of shorts, my Fuel Belt, and sprinted out of the Selby parking lot, down the street, almost got hit by about a million cars, and made it to St. Clair, panting heavily. I figured that I could strech out, get loose, etc. Well, right when I got there, here comes the club. The coach says "hey, are you the Berger kid, lets go," and that was that.
Well, I was running with the 8:30 group, and that took its toll. Now usually, that's an easy pace to hold, but considering my sprint and the heat, I just died after 5k. So, the group passed me-- all of them, cool. So, I finished up my ~10k loop back running by St. Kate's, at a lot slower pace. I went out in 26:40, and came back in 32:30. I'm into complaining about my equipment lately, so here we go. I came back, and my shades were caked with sweat (again). My runing shoes were pretty much buckets of water by the time I came back, and I still have blisters because my shoes are ~360mi worth of old.
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