Right, well, it turns out I’m not so great at staying up to date on my blog.
Latest news from the island in the middle of nowhere: Aaron and I are running a 10K race tomorrow through the mountains. It should be interesting for several reasons. First being I’m quite positive I’ve never run 10K in my life, second is the fact that I haven’t actually seen the course, and third, I’m really quite atrocious at coming up with a training plan and sticking with it.
I did, however, put my foot down last Sunday and declare that we were going to run for 60 minutes straight. All in all, it went a lot better than expected. We were able to putter along for 30 minutes straight before we wheezed to a slow walk. The plan was to start up again in exactly three telephone poles’ time. But, we are in Japan. And so it shouldn’t surprise anyone to learn that we got distracted by a temple and subsequently killed ourselves on the stairs only to get to the top and go “Wow, a temple! And boy oh boy, do I like this moss path! Right. Back down we go.”
Back on the road, we reset our plan to start running after two telephone poles, but then there was a super friendly horse that I named Phillip until Aaron crushed me by saying “Isn’t that the name of Snow White’s prince?” I had absolutely no clue, but I couldn’t stand for such a thing.
So, without thinking, I said “Fine. Eustace!” and immediately regretted it.
Anyway, we pet the horse for far too long, and when we left I named him Mame, which means Bean. We will probably rename him on our next run.
We then ran the remaining twenty-two minutes back home and still somehow got 9K finished. Let me tell you, we felt great afterwards.
Later in the evening, Aaron and I walked to the port to treat ourselves to a dinner out at our favorite restaurant. Halfway through my fried mushroom I realized I had left the stove on. I then freaked, told Aaron, who stopped dead and said, “Run!” and poof! My poor mushroom was left to sponge up my cold, abandoned tempura sauce while I bumbled my way into my boots and tried to get the very busy waiters to call me a cab.
After waiting a good five minutes trying to get a cab, a waitress told me they were all busy, and I prepared myself mentally for the run home in boots made for anything but running.
After what felt like 20 minutes of sprinting (but was probably only seven-ish minutes) I made it about halfway home before I saw a taxi stopped at a light. Circling it like a vulture to see if anyone was inside, I slowly got closer and closer and when I saw it was free of passengers, I practically threw myself on the passenger window, knocking on it rapid fire and saying something to the effect of, “Are-you-free-can-I-ride-let-me-in-pleaseee!”
Once the cab man recovered from his shock of having a blonde foreigner fling herself against his cab window, panting heavily and with the eyes of a crazed baboon, we took off.
Turns out the stove was on low and was totally fine.
Also, I pulled my groin muscle.