18 Miles... Only 8 more?

Actually, 8.2, but who's counting?

This past weekend saw the miraculous achievement of 18 miles. I ran along a busy highway in Syracuse, NY. There's a little side walk along the way. So here I was, running next to a Best Buy, a Mall, a Bed Bath & Beyond... yes, a BB&B! I also attempted my toughest hill during the training. I ended up running up it and not stopping, which took about every positive, optimistic bone in my body to defeat my naturally cynical viewpoint on most things in life. What a terrible sentence. See?

Then I ran past Syracuse University. Ah, old mems. Mems. I got to run through a graveyard and then past the house I lived with 4 dudes and a lady. Oh 814 Lancaster. I then ran by my apt of debauchery where my Senior year was spent. How I survived that apt I'll never know. No heat. Constant drinking. Many poor decisions. One painting of a cat. Just insanity.

Think the run is done yet? Nope that only takes us up to mile 13. I wanted to kill someone.

I ran the final 5 miles back, walking probably 4 of them when all was said and done. I ran the final mile strong, realizing I still had plenty of gas in the tank, which was encouraging. Once home, I fell face first into my bed and fell asleep with my hat over my eyes. And passed out for about 2 hours. Then I went out for a Garden Burger and friends!

So. This is where I am. This week is a 8 mile, then the monster is next weekend. I am routing where to run the 20 miles. I think I might drive to Long Island and find a nice park away from the city.

I kind of want to hire someone to drive in front of me during the 20 mile run and yell at me through a blowhorn. Any takers?