Ah, Saturdays. I like Saturdays. I like running with the group, makes me feel important when I have to bring treats and all... . I was a little worried when I showed up because I didn't see anyone at the LifeChange Center. 'Did I get the time wrong? What day is it? This is what I get for being early for once.' If it weren't for seeing Dawn and Lisa parked next to me, I would have went back home and ran in my neighborhood. (If any of you ever feel like you want to challenge yourself with some hills, let me know. I have some pretty good size hills behind my apartment. Makes you think of GM.)
The crowd was smaller today - ONLY six miles, ya know. I decided to run until I got tired and then walk. Besides the bathroom break and fire drill practice, I think I ran a fairly decent run. What? Oh, the fire drill practice? Yeah, most of you missed that memo. You see, on the return trip back, just before the large intersection before the college, I had the initiative to practice my fire drill skills. You know... the Stop, Drop and Roll method. I had implemented this earlier on in my running career. Picture it, a little Michelle at the age of 7 or 8, insistant and excited to run with her Father. On the first mammoth hill I ever ran, the Father/Daughter interaction went as such: "Michelle, pick your feet up and don't lean so far forward or you'll.... (insert crying) ...fall." Fastforward about twelve years later. I am running in the desert, clear, brisk morning on a packed-sand trail at the base of enormous mountains. 'Perfect time for a fire drill, 'eh?' Luckily, I was on downgrade, so I was able to roll right onto my feet and continue running. Both incidents involved bleeding and gravel. If any of you have ever noticed, I have a quarter-size scar on each knee from those falls. Now I have a new one on the right elbow. What I have noticed is that when we get older, we do our damnedest not to fall. But when we do it hurts twice as bad! It is also amazing the number of thoughts one's mind can skim through before actual impact. Let me rewind the tape for you. 'Oops. I think I can recover...no can't get my balance. Tuck and roll! Tuck and roll! Oh this is gonna hurt....' All I could think after was, 'I took karate; I should have rolled much more smoothly than that.' I didn't see anyone beside Robin, who saw the aftermath. T'knesha, I would have caught you.
Nursed my wounds at home. I could have sworn Peroxide doesn't sting on cuts! I must have scraped off more layers than I thought. My knees buckled because I was just pouring the peroxied on from the bottle. Whew! Next time I know, a little dab'll do ya. But like T'knesha said, they're my battle scars.

On a new topic, Lisa, I saw your comment for Donna about going out to meet and eat. Girrrl, you said my favorite word - eat. I am all about going out to eat. The book I'm reading says you must have those carbs to replenish what you've lost on the long runs. If you ever want to meet and eat, give me a call, whenever. I'll eat damn near anything. I'm not picky.

Lastly, Patti, it seems you really think I got the goods to write a book. Sometimes all it takes is a little push, I guess. So, if you and others are game, I could write a book about all of us on this journey. I'll need your okays to possibly use some of your blogs and interview you. I think I could pull it off. Non-fiction seems to be the "in" thing, I hear. Let me know what you think and I'll give it a go. In the infamous words of Jesse James: "I'll make ya famous."