Thank god it's what now? Are you kidding? This is the week my long Friday run inches up to 14 miles, then it's 16 for a couple of weeks, then 18, then a very dizzying 20. Do you really think I'm in any mood to thank anyone it's Friday?
You know what? I'm staging a coup. Until I cross the finish line of my marathon on the evening of July 30 (though, really, the smart money's on me finishing somewhere after midnight on the morning of July 31), the acronym formerly known as an abbreviation for "thank god it's Friday" will stand for "tyrannically grueling impossible Fridays."
And with that, I'm off to run 14 miles. TGIF, indeed!
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I take it all back! Fourteen miles today and no trace of nausea, no desire to cut my legs off at the hips, no disorienting fuzziness of the brain. Fridays are a fine reason to be thankful, it seems.
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