Oh the Irony.

First, go read the post I wrote earlier yesterday.

Read it? OK. Funny how things like this work out... I actually did run til I couldn't run anymore.

Why can't I run anymore? I am chafing. In fact not only can I not really run, I can't really walk.

Why am I in such pain? I accidentally just ran 14.5 miles.

How did I accidentally run 14.5 miles? It's a funny story, really. So yesterday I was feeling pretty antsy, so I figured, what better way to get rid of all my energy by running. The initial plan was to run to Springville, which I thought was about 5 miles away. I'd get to Grandma's, grab a drink, and then run back to Provo to get my bike from Shane's house, which I figured was about 3 miles away. Riding the other 2 miles would be fine, and it would be a good 10 mile workout to help me put off studying for my 4 midterms.

Things started out great- the sun was bright, the cars on State Street didn't run me over, and I was only honked at one time. 311 and the Killers helped me make it all the way to Grandma's. I'd been going for 50 minutes, so I stopped my watch, grabbed a drink and chatted with the family, and then I set off for Shane's house.

Even though Provo has a grid system, I still got lost. I ran around Provo for a good hour until I finally found his apartment, stepping foot in an area of town where the street signs are written in Spanish before English, and where there are more boarded windows than actually businesses It was an adventure to say the least!

The Omni Apartments seemed like Mecca to me as I ran up the sidewalk. Tired and ready to be done running, I dialed my combo, and started wheeling my bike down the sidewalk. But there was a problem. A big one.

Flat tire.

I let out a loud, "NOOOOOOOOO!" and hated the world for a minute.

A little dishearted and dreading the run back to campus, I relocked Silver Bullet and restarted the timer. I'd now been running for 1 hour and 50 minutes. Lovely.

I hate the word, "jog". The connotation reminds me of the movement of an old woman trying to run with 2 replaced hips, and I hate being referred to as a "jogger" or anything of the like. Except I think the imagery of an old lady ambling across campus is exactly what I resembled at this time, and therefore the word fits. Perfectly.

As I ran across campus, all I could think about was writing this blog, and how ironic this whole ordeal was. It is what kept me going until I reached Heritage... oh, and the multiple spoonfuls of peanut butter I indulged in as I sat in the grass recounting my story to all my roommates.

When I finally found the strength to inside, curiosity got the best of me, and I just had to find out many miles I'd actually ran. With the help of this website, I routed my run, and came up with this little map of my mileage.

... and I still have not studied for my tests.