On Saturday, I believe I attained all of the qualifications needed for the title of Total Bad-Ass. Never mind that some of them I did unintentionally.
I began with a 20 mile training run, which included some delicious hills. It was once again so hot and humid that I was able to literally wring sweat out of my running skirt (sexy). I found out later that, despite working hard to stay hydrated, I lost four pounds in the process. Yikes.
At mile 18, I was near my mom's house. I have been enlisting her as course aid in these training runs, and as usual, she had a bottle of water waiting for me. Yay, Mom! I had the genius idea that I would finish up my run in her neighborhood. Then, she'd give me some kind of delicious post-run fruit, a glass of cold, cold water, lots of adoration and compliments, and a ride home - by way of Starbucks, where I'd get one of their new protein shakes.
The only problem with this great idea was that I didn't actually tell anyone about it in advance. Which meant that there was nobody home when I went knocking on the door looking for adoration, compliments, snacks, etc. I was about three miles away from home and in no mood to do any more running - or walking - if I could avoid it.
So, I went into their garage, grabbed my step-dad Doug's bike and helmet, happy to see that his water bottle was full. I found a piece of Jack's sidewalk chalk and wrote a quick note:
I took your bike. Thanks.
Mom and Doug came home and thought their bike had been stolen by someone very polite. Then they figured out that B stood not for Burglar, but rather for Betsy.
I survived the experience and figured I did not need to do any cross-training on Sunday.