Country roads, take me home…eventually.
I headed out on Sunday for my long run, cursing the brown sugar snow that ensued from Saturday’s all day snow-a-thon. Knowing that the roads, sidewalks, shoulders, etc. would be complete crap, I oh-so cleverly mapped out a route that was a little bit country, a little bit foreign to me. This was so that I could, basically, run in the middle of the road without too much traffic (aka: elderly ladies with zero driving reflexes and honking, skiddy truck guys giving me the finger while wildly pursuing me like eventual roadkill). Pretty smart, huh?
So smart and off the beaten path (we’re talking a whole 5ish km out of town) that I somehow missed my turn…I’m thinking it was somewhere between Black Eyed Peas and Florence and the Machine. Anyhoo, not too big of a deal, except that my 17km turned into a 19km. Yay – forced distance!
I won’t even report my pace, because I’m confident that the driving Miss Daisy’s, who typically force me off the road, could have schooled me.