03/27/2021 - Iron Lion - Iron lion run club . . . “I hate running”
AO: Iron Lion
When: 03/27/2021
PAX:
Number of Pax: 6
Pax Names: Glenn, Moonlight, Riunite, Sulley,
DR Names:
Number of FNGS: 1
FNG Names: loudspeaker
QIC: Wine in A Box
Introduction
Ok . . . Loudspeaker isnt an FNG, but he isnt on the website yet. Can someone please fix?
Run club needed a Q with spring breakers out of town and the shiny new toy of The Bear at the same time. So FINE . . . I guess Ill do it. Wait. I already signed up to Q Early Iron Lion too? WTF was I thinking. Son of a . . .
sigh
Im not sure if anyone knows this, But I hate running. Seriously. F running. I guess its because Im a bigger guy, but still. RUNNING SUCKS. I do it because I want to get better at it so I can perform better at OCR races and do the “black diamonds” (which is still just a thinly disguised longer and suckier run club), but it still sucks.
All you track stars jumping all nimbly bimbly around and sprinting away from the clydesdales can suck it.
(ok . . .I dont mean that. Its out of jealousy and envy.)
But I maintain that running sucks.
So there.
I need a nap.
Warm-O-Rama
We did some leg stretches. And hip stretches.
My arms are sore from the earlier Q.
The Thang
I decided to do the circuit that Curds did for the first stupid run club I went to.
So we did a stupid circuit through the perimeter of Four Lakes.
Which includes something like 9-11 stupid floors of stupid elevation . . . mainly uphill with the stupid path we took.
We ran 4.5 ish stupid miles.
First through Four Lakes, then a loop around the outside of Iron Lion.
Then Instead of running more, which would be stupid, we did a bunch of leg stretches, hip stretches, and lying on the ground gasping for air (Ok . . that was just me).
Stupid run clubs.
Running is stupid.
Im a crabby pants.
Circle of Trust
CoT was about variety. Oh . . you were at early iron lion too? Well tough shit . . you will hear it again.
Variety is good. Running outside Iron Lion was breaking out of our comfort zone and pushing ourselves further.
If you want the rest of my incredibly inspirational, yet poignant CoT, go read it from Early Iron Lion. Im too tired to type anymore.
But it was so freaking good that I thought I saw Sulley shed a tear. or it could just be allergies. Either way . . . there you have it.
Naked Man Moleskin
Guys . . . did you know I hate running?
Early one once we entered the Four lakes area, Glenn, Loudspeaker and Sulley quickly pulled away from the clydesdales. Thats me and Riunite. Moonlight kept us company out of pity because he was talking the whole time as we desperately gasped for air. He even kept circling back for us as we tried to stave off heart attacks. he is a helluva guy.
Once we went up the stupid long hill at the back of Four Lakes we saw Glenn, Sulley and Loudspeaker merrily prancing ahead of us without a care in the world. I am definitely jealous. Im not sure they were even sweating at this point.
We saw them later in the distance. I might have given them the finger. I dont remember. That might have just been part of my running induced fever hallucinations.
Then after we got back into Iron Lion we saw them again, because they look an even longer path. WTF.
This whole time Moonlight is shepherding Riunite and I as we stagger on.
Running suuuuuuuuucks.
Getting back near the flags we see Glenn, Loudspeaker and Sulley (the graceful gazelle) loping around without a care in the world . . . because they are really good at running. I am definitely jealous.
Riunite and I cant even use our arms to run anymore because of the earlier beatdown. They are flapping uselessly at our sides like Jim Carrey in Ace Ventura Two when he is hit with curare darts (If you dont get that reference . .. then go watch it today)
But then a miracle happened.
Something you had to be there to witness.
Something glorious.
The stuff that inspires poems that echo through eternity.
Riunite and I sprinted . . . . SPRINTED MIND YOU . . . the last 40 yards or so to the flags.
Im tearing up just thinking about it.
Maybe you just had to be there . . . . .