QUICK!

YOU HAVE 15 MINUTES TO POUND OUT A BLOG POST BEFORE YOU LOSE!!! GO GO GO!!!!

Remember my internal monologue? She's still here.

Speaking of which, I suppose I'll just recap my day, because it was really quite interesting. This morning on my team run, I fell back (as usual) but then I decided that I didn't want to walk at all. I just kept going. Usually I set little goals for myself (One more hill! Good job!), and I'll give myself a walk break after some of the bigger ones. But today, after I broke each goal, I just kept setting new ones. I seriously don't mean to toot my own horn here, but I was seriously impressed with myself, especially when I kept going after I knew how far we'd already gone. I'll break down a 3 mile run for you. The first mile is okay, because it's still early and you've still got your lungs and legs all synchronized and you're pretty sure you're not going to die. The second mile sucks. So badly. It sucks more than a shop vac. It's the mile where you get tired and you know you've still got one more to go, and you start to realize that either your legs or your lungs aren't going to hold out too much longer. On mile three, you've made it to the point of no return. Stopping now would just make you feel like crap about yourself, so you might as well just power it through to the end. What's one more mile? The last block is the best, because your body completely takes over and goes "I'M ALMOST DONE!" and breaks into a dead on sprint so you'll stop making it do things. My body hates doing things.
Then, when we were finished running (still came in last, but only by two blocks!), I found 10 bucks in the parking lot. I choose to think of it as a reward from God, like he's up there going "Excellent job making yourself want to hurl this morning, Erin. Here's ten dollars." (God sounds like Doug, by the way).
I got a chance to hang out with one of my friends later, which was great. I discovered the addiction to Keeping Up With the Kardashians and the Tyra Show, and it was nice to just talk and eat junk.
And of course, because God forbid I have a perfect day, my fish dies. I've decided that it's a rite of passage to have to scoop a little dead fish out of the bottom of the bowl and carry him on that long, sad journey to the toilet. It's good for a kid to see it lying helplessly in the toilet bowl, then appear to almost swim again as the swirling water flushes it down into the sewer system.
Then I had Driver's Ed. Blahh. Boring.
Done! Five minutes to spare!