That was Jake today before we left on our run.
Not completely invalid, Jake definitely had a huge reason to say what he did.
Yesterday was my last vacation day.
Jake and I decided that we were going to go to the beach to eat at the incredible Orange Inn in Laguna and have fun splashing in the waves.
...
Sans sunscreen of course.
We settled ourselves down about a half mile away from the main beach with our super Cranberry Orange Muffins which meant going to change or use the bathroom meant a half mile walk over loose sand, rocks and through high-tided waves. And then a half mile to get back, too.
After making this walk many a times, you would think Jake and I would be beat.
Ever one's to lean toward a spontaneous action, though, that wasn't all we did.
At about one thirty in the afternoon yesterday whilst covered in sand and giving true justice to the names beach bums, we also went to Disneyland.
Disneyland makes dreamers out of Jake and I. We truly believe we have the power to see the shows, make the rides and get a taste of our favorite Disneyland Gumbo without ever having a wasted moment.
After walking from one end of California Adventure to the other, then into Tomorrowland in Disneyland on forward to the River's of America to watch Fantasmic's new editions, we seemed like super Disney goers, even though we looked like we belonged rolled up under an ocean pier.
Overall, the time was side-splittingly good- which reminds me.
The past few days, Jake has been dealing with a mystery ailment- injury- something. Which makes running rather difficult.
In his own words, "It's like there is a little chubby spikey guy who is crammed in there and he is bouncing and squirming around."
So ouch.
Jake dealt with this pretty well yesterday though and I definitely had a good last vacation day before I go back to work for eight straight days of torment. (Which will conclude with my last day at work- because apparently they want me to hate them when I leave.)
By the end of the night, I was slightly burned, sore, and covered with a sandy day of fun that lasted past midnight when we finally got home.
If I hadn't had to wake up at four in the morning, this may have gone over well.
But it didn't.
I woke up, calves crazy sore from trudging across the sand and completely covered with the most painful sunburn I've ever experienced.
After working today, stressing out over school and just being a broken, tired mess, I was less than excited to even move. Let alone run.
When Jake walked into my house, he had this look of FIRE all over his skin and was sort of pinching at his side which hasn't gotten a hint that we need it to get better.
We've promised ourselves to do a 5k this Saturday. It's 3.1 miles and although it seemed impossible, I thought, if we could just run 1.5 miles, stop for .1 and run another 1.5, we'll be okay.
As I waddled down to Jake, I can quote him again with his intelligent question:
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
I must say, it probably isn't.
But as we emerged over the horizon tonight looking like two plump cherries, one with sore calves and one with a pin in it's side, we made our way through our route looking like stumbling red fools.
There was something triumphant about it though.
Because despite the ridiculousness of it all, we were still out there working toward what we promised. And although I can feel pain radiating through my legs and my skin is boiling to the touch, I'm proud that we got out there and did something anyway.
We'll make it.
I think.
Maybe...
But I believe in us.
Gotta Run,
Brooke
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