Since readership tends to lag over the weekend, I'll take this opportunity to travel off topic (like I never do that...)

As someone who has been a blog reader much longer than a blog writer, I have made it pretty clear that  I really enjoy reader participation, I embrace all comments, I will not delete anything, and I will not be upset if you disagree with anything I write.

Over time, as more and more readers have visited, the closer some comments get to testing the limits of what I will actually embrace.  Rare as it is, I will get a comment that speaks not to the post at hand, but to a judgment about me as the writer--I'm jealous, I'm a hypocrite, I'm arrogant, I'm the worst.

I'm ugly.

This week, someone stopped by just to tell me I am ugly.  To be specific, I am "ugly looking"--just to be clear, not metaphorically ugly in spirit (oh, phew).  Also that I am manly.  And despite all these unfortunate qualities, I still manage to be arrogant.

Obviously, I'm not crazy, and I'm not letting a trolling comment get under my (uggggllllyyy) skin.  I am only slightly bothered.  My first reaction was to giggle, because I know now this blog has really come a long way from the days of me fishing for just one dozen friendly readers.  I now have anonymouses!  Too many readers to be named!

The thing that bums me out is that having a running blog gives readers license to judge my appearance. This isn't a modeling blog you stupid heads.

So do I draw the line here?  No.  I don't delete these comments.  I even still believe that this person has a right to voice that what they learned from my post was that it is confusing that I call myself Rose since I look like a Ross. Tee hee.

LISTEN PEOPLE.  Your comment stays.  You don't need to try and test my feelings here.  Empty insults aren't going to do anything but lead to boring blog posts in which I wonder what the point of empty insults on physical appearance are, and then make me flashback to the last time someone told me I was ugly.

The last time someone told me I was ugly? to my face?  I was 11.  In a bathing suit.  That I had carefully selected because it made me look more flat-chested than I actually was, because I hated my new boobs.  I wanted to look like a kid.  But some punk boy that I didn't know pointed at me, looked at his friend, and said "now SHE is ugly," as if they were having a conversation in which they could not quite illustrate with words how to describe an ugly person, and then they luckily spotted me, and were able to finally reach an understanding and move on.

Because of this one person, ages 11-13 was a time when if I wasn't locked in my room dreaming about JTT, I was drowning in worry about my appearance.  Pimples, boobs, Jewish nose, all of the above.

Sorry this is the only picture of me at age 11 that I have access to.  I was obviously adorable. 

These concerns faded as other more important ones entered my life.  I haven't spent many minutes since that age worrying about being ugly.  After nearly five years with the Gentleman, who tells me I am beautiful daily, some days I almost believe he is telling an objective truth.

Anyway.  I don't appreciate the flashbacks, anon's of the world. If you use grown-up words to describe what you are thinking then this will continue to be a fun place to talk about running, blogging, and a mix of the two.

I know 99% of you are able to handle this societal norm, so I'm kind of preaching to the choir.  Have you ever dealt with personal insults on the internet? If not, it's probably cause you are pretty so ptttthhh.


Running! The prettiest thing there is!  (don't ever let me say those words out loud)

Monday:     0
Tuesday:     9.8 (fail, too tired to hit the planned-for 12-14 miles)
Wednesday: 16.7
Thursday:   13.5
Friday:        13.2
Saturday:     21.6
Sunday:       13.2
[total = 88 miles]

I tried to make Wednesday's run count towards a good effort for "marathon training" with a spontaneously-made-up workout of 2 x 4 miles at goal marathon pace.

It didn't go very smoothly, I was feeling low-energy, and holding anything under a 7:00 minute pace while running around the lake was feeling harder than it should on a better day.  It is always so much harder for me to run fast anywhere but the track, the treadmill, or in a race.  The four-mile sets were also interrupted by my loud urges to stop and stretch a couple times in the middle of each set.

Set 1: 6:53; 6:48; 6:53; 6:46
Set 2: 7:02; 6:51; 7:04; 6:42

I then tried to make Thursday's run count towards another easing-back-into the track workout.  I aim to get back to 10x800m at under 3:00 minutes each (Yasso's), but for now, I started with a measly 5 repeats.  Partially because I ran out of time, partially because I was toast after 5 repeats.

2:59; 2:59; 2:55; 2:54; 2:56

Neither of these runs are where I'd like to be, but I guess the idea is that they are the building blocks to help me get there!

Saturday's 21.6 miler was boring and long and slow, and I would have stopped at 16 miles if I wasn't already so goddamn far away from home.  But I'm glad it happened, I hope to keep building up to 23 or 24 miles so that 26.2 miles sounds like a piece of cake and I can just focus on my goal pace.

Sunday's 13.2 miles (this morning) was a hard dusty trail run with XLMIC in the Berkeley hills.  We ran just under 9 miles together, and then I ran a few more on my own.  The first 9 miles of hard climbs was so much easier than the last 4 miles on my own, because I got to listen to first hand Nuun HTC gossip ;)  Actually it was easier because XLMIC is a crazy strong hill climber.

Now I have a blood blister.  It is pretty.