Winter Whine

It's okay that I decided to forgo a spring marathon.  No, really, it is.  It's okay that I just emailed the Wrightsville Beach Marathon race director telling him I won't be on the start line.  Seriously, it's cool.  Ehhh, who am I kidding.  It f'ing sucks. 

My ITBS pain (not to be confused with IBS, which is funny, cuz ya know, that's kinda my M.O.) reached an all-time high, or perhaps I should say an all-time low, a couple of weeks ago.  When you continually try to run through something that clearly needs strength work, and you don't do it, well, whaddya expect.  <---This is purely a factual statement for your learning pleasure.  I, OF COURSE, did not partake in this!  Liar.  Anywho, after a constant stream of a few days off, run again, a few days off, run again, I am finally taking the rest and work I need to get this fixed.  

Whiner Alert --->  What sucks is that my fitness was on fire.  After Philly, I set some pretty nasty goals (nasty in the awesome sense, which really doesn't make sense, but whatever, work with me here).  I figured that if I can run a 2:58 only 11 months after expelling a mini-Mike out of my you-know-what, the sky's the limit.  I used to think I could only get so fast, but that mental block is now blocked.  I know I have a lot more in me, and it was showing over the past month.  So, could I still run Wrightsville?  Sure.  However, I don't just want to run.  I wanted to race.  I wanted to win.  So, my goals are on hold, but they aren't going anywhere.  In the meantime, I'll be here, waiting to hit the roads again, enjoying my full-of-lactose-and-dairy cheese alongside my whine.

It's probably for the best anyway.  The past two weeks in the Goff casa have gone like this:  Logan gets a cold, gives said cold to me, Logan gets the most epic of epic stomach viruses EVER, and finally (I'm hoping this is the end), I come down with a fever, ear infection, and a blown out ear drum (<--- how does that even happen?!).  If I was trying to train hard through all of this, lawwwwd, I'd be grumpcious (grumpy + vicious).    

So, while unable to train, Mike (who, mind you, has stayed healthy through all of this...what!) and I have been chatting about mini-Mike number two and when might be the best time to expand the brood.  At first I thought, well, I can't run, so now is as good a time as ever, but then I was scrolling through my phone and found this (TMV Alert --->):

Sweet jeezers, that &^$% is big!  ...and that's only 28 weeks!  Mmk, so maybe not yet.  Btw, TMV = too much visual.  ...although that probably would have helped you before the photo.  My bad.

So, that's the scoop.  Once my knee is aligned with my brain and heart, it will be all systems go on these goals.  Although, who knows, if one mini-Mike brought such success, I'm not so scared anymore of what will happen after a second.  With hard work, passion, unwillingness to settle, and a little sacrifice, anything is possible!

He may be a mini-Mike, but he is definitely my son too!  

nom nom

Happy Running!
...Oh, and Happy Groundhog's Day.  Jus' sayin'.