Running on a full stomach

It's not the brightest thing in the world, but I'm giong to have to do it tonight. Since I didn't run last night. I was hashed.

The whole running thing is starting to get me down. Not only is the course going to be ridiculously long and dominated by uphill bits (and I am really great at running downhill and on level surfaces but not the uphill) but I'm not acheiving any of the results I wanted. According to people who support me, I'm packing on muscle at an unprecedented rate, not just blooming upwards in weight. Which is what it feels like.

But in the areas where I am excelling, I got my annual review today and I would quote from it and my boss's extoling my work ethic, prize-winningness, super repping skillz for the G------, etc. but I left it on my desk. And I got my annual raise. Let's just say Callie may be buying the six inch BMT on a day when it is *not* the special!!!

Speaking of prize-winning, I found out I'm going to win something from the Western Washington Society of Professional Journalists. But then, so is something the intern wrote. When the Seattle Weekly was in our circulation category — and not relegated to the brand new "alternative weekly" category (thanks, Dan Savage, for mentioning the Peninsula Gateway in your Slog entry on why The Stranger never enters the SPJ contest, as in "that competition is for papers like The Peninsula Gateway, and it's unconscionable that the Weekly puts itself in competition with such pissant papers." And that's not an actual quote, but there was a definite hint of we'd-be-fighting-below-our-weightedness, even though alternative weekly writers are well known for their modesty) — it was a little more special to get that plastic plaque.

So the intersection of work and running is coming up. One is going swimmingly, the other is a rough road, and Jake the sports guy says he's going to cover the S2N. With the camera. I'm running with the special slow people, it's doubtful I'll finish in less than 90 minutes, I tend to get very red in the face and my hair goes all poofy and crazy — this intersection of my competence and incompetence cannot meet or the juju will feel a confluence and infect my working life.

So I have to run harder than ever. 30th Street hill, prepare to be attacked.