How does one prepare for an ass kicking?

Tomorrow is going to suck ass.

First of all... there will be the morning run. Last week Matt and I met up for an early morning run. The plan was to meet at 6:30 am. Now, for whatever reason... probably because I wrongly consider myself to be like wayyyy more hardcore than EVERYONE else that I know... I just assumed that he'd want to run like 4-5 miles. So, I thought to myself... I'll just get out a little early and log a few extra miles before we meet up.

A good idea in theory... not a good idea in practice. For one... I found myself at like the furthest point possible with only 15 minutes to get myself to the meeting place... which was like a comfortable 22+ minute run. Oh SHIT is right, my friends. I high-tailed it to the meeting spot and was pretty much exhausted by the time he pulled up. And then I asked him... "so, how far you thinking about running today?" When he casually replied... "oh, about 7 miles" I seriously almost shit my pants. But, I played it cool.... yeah, 7 miles. No problem.

By the time I got home that morning I had logged over 12 miles and felt nauseous. But ya know, I did it... and I didn't die. So, now... tomorrow morning when we meet up, I have to log 12 again, right? Cause I did it last week.

Okay, so I guess that's not so bad, right?

Well, now let's consider tomorrow afternoon. Remember the two-a-days? Well, they were supposed to be on Tuesdays, but... through a weird combination of random and cosmic occurrences that involve a mutual friend, the blog and an anonymous commenter (which... by the way... not the same anonymous commenter as this anonymous commenter, right?) I now play golf on Tuesday afternoons with anonymous commenter and in exchange he runs my afternoon two-a-day run with me... but on Thursdays. Okay, confused yet? Don't worry, it doesn't matter anyway.

So, last Thursday was our first run together. And... between you and me (and him, I guess. Haha) I thought I was going to die. Everyone is faster than me. That's a known fact. But... usually I can keep up. And by that I mean... usually I just make the other person slow down to match my speed. I have no issues about being a slow bitch. Normally. But, you see... in this case... I don't really want to tip my hand and show what a pansy ass golfer I am, and then two days later, ask him to slow the freak down before I throw up all over the sidewalk. Especially considering that he already thinks we're running slow! I mean... that's just too demoralizing (even for me).

So, I tried to play it off like it was no big deal... just out for a casual jog (although it was probably more like a casual crawl to him) meanwhile I was praying for every red light at every intersection to turn red and stay red for 10 minutes at a time.

And this is what I have to look forward to tomorrow. Both of these hard ass runs on the same damn day! (Although, the rescheduling of the run with Matt was because of my own conflict, so I can't blame him for that. Even though I might try). My ass is going to be completely kicked. Good thing Friday is a rest day.