The most bastardly muscle.

I pulled a muscle in my ribcage yesterday, along my back. The ribcage seems to be the most bastardly part of the body to injure. I hiccupped this morning and I almost pissed myself.

So I got home yesterday and was thinking about possibly doing six miles with the dog. The problem is that the park I walk in closes at that nebulous hour of “dusk”. When the hell is dusk? According to The Weather Channel, sunset was at 9:04 last night. Is sunset the same as dusk? I use them interchangeably, but what the hell do I know? So I get down to the park at around 6:45 and decide it’s best to push the pace a little. Usually I do six miles at around 19-20 minutes per mile, but we made it out to the turn-around point (it’s a 5K trail) in 50 minutes.

At this point, I decide I want to bring it in in 48 minutes. I made the first mile in about 15:30 and make the decision to come back in 46. With a little push at the end, I finish up the 10K trail in 1:35:50. Watch your back, Galen Rupp. I’m only 1:09:02 behind you now, punk!

I plan to do a nine- or ten-miler on Friday morning, and I’m going to do a half-marathon later this month. I expect it will take somewhere in the neighborhood of four hours, and I will then officially be even more awesome.

On the downside, that damn scale is being stubborn. I lost about seven pounds in four days though, so I expect that to be going the right direction again tomorrow.

Breakfast:
2 eggs, 2 Eggo Nutri-Grain Whole Wheat waffles, coffee

Lunch:
Turkey sandwich on Dave’s Killer, Creamy Tomato Soup

Dinner:
Panini (turkey, cracked wheat sourdough, red pepper, red onion, hummus) – holy shit was it good.