Hey Stupid, Stop Eating Crap

If it were possible to have a conversation with my body it would probably go something like this:

Me: Why do you hate me so much I have to get the trots before AND after runs?
Body: Because you put crap in me.
Me: But it tastes so good.
Body: No it doesn't, you just watch too much TV and are easily swayed by commercials.  Don't deny it, brain told me so yesterday.
Me: Whatever, I'm having a snickers bar for lunch.  Take that.
Body:  Fine, but then you're going to spend lots of bonding time with the toilet at work.
Me: Dammit.  Oh well it's worth it.

While consuming my daily dose of crap last night, I snorted up some BBQ chips when we saw track cycling on the Olympics.  Really, Track Cycling?!  For this event, my husband had the funniest comment.  This was our conversation during the first part of the race where the bikers stall. 

Me and Jason: What is this?
Me: I don't get it, look up the DVR info, what is this called?
Jason: It doesn't say.
Me: What are they doing?  How do they win?
Jason:  . . . the guy that can go the slowest without falling wins.

Ok, it's not as funny in the morning.  But trust me, it was hilarious last night.  Also, the internet is devoid of track cycling memes.  Internet, you have let me down.

In other whiny noises, there needs to be a way to combine the entertainment factor of listening to an audio book and the pace boosting factor of music. I've been dreading my long runs because they are becoming exceedingly dull.  50 laps around a track can do that to you. 

In an effort to entertain myself and shake out of this funk, I listened to The Importance of Being Ernest.  The only Oscar Wilde I had read was Picture of Dorian Gray.  While I loved the novel, it felt pretty dark.  On the other hand, the Importance of Being Ernest, is hilarious.  It certainly made the run more entertaining.  If there were other people out at the track at 5am, they would have found me entertaining too since I was laughing like a lunatic.  Unfortunately for them, they missed out on that particular pleasure. 

At the same time it did felt harder.  I suppose the beat of the music helps move my feet along.  Looking back at my splits, they certainly reflected that I was going slower than usual.  Since I'm slow to begin with, this isn't great for improving my time.  Turns out I'm not skilled enough to listen to audio books and keep a pace at the same time. 

Yes, I am aware that I'm being melodramatic.