When my people celebrate National Running Day, we like to get started early.
And mix things up.
Because running requires strength on top of cardio.
And this our holiday.
We were going to celebrate the hell out of it.
I can’t remember exactly how the idea came about.
These days it usually starts with Skratch kind of daring me to do something with an innocent sounding suggestion.
And then it has to become a reality.
You can’t just back down from a dare. Even a thinly veiled one.
And then when I say, “psht obviously we’re gonna do that stupid thing,” they all figure I’ll just forget about it. Because early onset.
And then I create a Facebook event. Because who runs my life? Facebook.
And then people get invited and before you know it, I’m in my car at 1:30 in the damn morning on a Wednesday driving into Vinton.
The plan was to run some miles before Tiny Brazilian’s 5am Leg Day class.
Even though I’m pretty sure it was Skratch’s dare, he was refusing to come. Claiming some excuse about work or some bullshit.
Set his alarm for 5am.
And then woke up at 2am.
Because I’ve got mind control over is subconscious.
I’ve got all the power.
I’m the captain now.
So that’s how we all ended up at the Star at 3:30 in the morning looking out over the city.
Trying to figure out why the city didn’t have the star lit up in celebration of our national holiday.
We collected the rest of our crew on our way back down.
Collected back at PlayFITStayFIT. And began calling every person that we expected to show up but hadn’t yet.
J-Vicious didn’t answer. He got a nice good morning voicemail instead.
Fall Risk answered & said she was on her way. I thought I’d woken her up until I heard her talking about how adorable and tiny something was…a baby deer. It was a baby deer.
At one point, Tiny Brazilian grabbed my phone out of my hands and called Rogue. Against my violent protests. She had a rough night and needed to sleep.
Franklin County Shine was smart enough not to give me his number. So he just got multiple FB messages.
So Leg Day. After 8 mountain miles.
After a 5am Full Body HIIT workout the morning before and trail run and paddle board the previous night.
Just a super excellent idea.
K-Rob-D’s mini me put in a strong showing for her first appearance. Nothing makes you feel subpar like a teenage track star reminding you what real running looks like before beasting you in HIIT Class.
My high point was watching Fall Risk interact with Tiny Brazilian. Because you think she’s this sweet little happy lady.
Which she is.
Until someone gives her control over a HIIT Class.
The mix of shock and hatred on Fall Risk’s face when Tiny Brazilian made her jump straight back into 50 pulse squats after she’d just done them. It was perfect.
She never looks at J-Vicious that way. That look is more of a resigned anger and resentment.
But we’re all a little shocked the first time Tiny Brazilian snatches a perfectly reasonable weight out of our hands and shoves some 100lb monstrosity at us.
I was rewarded for my 1am wake up with pancakes and coffee. And napping. So much napping.
And that was really all I had planned to do the rest of the day.
Except friends.
Because amid the planning for Sunday’s mountain adventures, Beautiful Beastie asked if any of us were coming to her 6pm Body Pump Class.
…
Of course I did.
Seriously.
How often do I ever say no? To anything?
So, I’ve done a little math and calculated that I’ve had approximately 8 hours of sleep in the last 48.
My body needs a solid 8 hours of sleep in every 24 hour period to achieve optimal levels of operation.
I’ve been operating at suboptimal levels all day. A kind of fitness hangover, if you will.
And it turns out that hair of the dog really does work.
Because as freakin ridiculous hard as Beautiful Beastie’s Body Pump Class was, it re-energized me.
I mean, the energy is pretty useless at this point because I can’t make my arms work because freakin clean and presses. But still. I’m wide awake just in time for my bedtime.
If you need me, I’ll be searching my Facebook events for when my next rest day is.
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