This was the first week where I seriously began to think, "I'm an idiot for thinking I can run a half marathon." WOMP.

I had an atrocious short run during the week, which got me all emo, like, if I can't do three or four miles comfortably, there's no way I can do 13.1. Saturday's long run was brutal as well, although I suspect that had something to do with the fact that the thermostat at the gym was cranked up to about a bazillion degrees. For some reason, the staff at the Stadium are trying to create a sauna-like ambiance in the cardio room which makes everything nice and...moist. Plus, spending more than one consecutive hour on the treadmill makes Homer something something at the best of times.

Overall, though, I was happy to get all my workouts in this week like a good girl.

Here's a summary of the week:

Monday: rest day
Tuesday: 3 mile run, 26:00. I ran hills and it was just OK.
Wednesday: 4 mile pace run, 37:00. Easy peasy.
Thursday: rest day, unplanned, because I felt like ass. Friday was supposed to be my rest day but I was all Captain Can't about running on Thursday, so I stayed home and watched Community instead. Sorry I'm not sorry.
Friday: yoga, 1 hour with my BFF Jillian.
Saturday: 7 mile run, 1:05. It started off horrendously but once I got into a groove around four and a half miles in (gag) it got better. But that first four and a half miles was gross.
Sunday: 3 mile run, 27:00, plus 15 minutes on the cross-trainer and a walk with the dog. I did hills again and they just killed me this time. There was nothing on TV to watch and I was sleepy. Wahhhh.

February 29 is the early bird cutoff date for half-marathon registration. Part of me wants to go ahead and register early to save some dollars and make a formal commitment to running this race. Part of me wants to wait until the very last minute to make sure I can actually do it and I'm not wasting all my money. A big part of me says a half-marathon is not a good idea for my first organized race and I should do a shorter distance instead. And there's another part of me that says stop being a crybaby and just f'ing do it.

Decisions, decisions.