Warriors! You need a playlist! One more time for luck!
This is my music for Warrior Dash! This is what I used to stay motivated and keep running. Maybe it will help you too! Let’s post it one more time before the race!
Play it, change it, rearrange it; Add it, delete it, use it as you need it. Good Luck to all! See you Saturday morning!! We are the Warriors!
Running Mild on an equally gorgeous day in Illinois
It’s Friday. If you read my post from Thursday, you’ll remember that I was running wild yesterday. Today, not so much. My playlist:
is awesome. But not enough. The forces of feminine nature are working against me today, and there is no remedy beyond time.
I was stiff and tired and felt heavy and broke down. I trudged along though because of the shining beacon of waxy hope I set up for myself and you, faithful readers: the quest for the crayons!
I started to lose faith somewhere between the 1¾ and 2 mile mark, when suddenly…there it was! The first crayon. A Red one! Non-crayola.
Was I crazy? Was I delusional in the heat yesterday? One stinking red crayon?!? I swear there were 8 or 10 or 12!!
Two miles in, I rationalized that the storm had driven them off the trail and into the side grass and weeds and that was it. Gone forever.
And then, looking like a sign from a bright sun god: Orange and Yellow!
A little further: Blue and Blue and Green. Then Brown all alone. Right in the middle of the path.
Then nothing for a little while. I figured that was it because I couldn’t remember how far along I had seen these crayons.
Just before 2½ miles, I saw one come into my vision. White! (Can’t see the word in the actual color–sorry!) I don’t even remember seeing that one at all.
But, no black. I know I saw it. because I was thinking of the 8-box of Crayola’s and it was the only one missing. (Purple too, but that was obliterated; crushed to waxy shards on the cement, so, sadly, I left it there to die in the sun.)
Oh well. Let’s just finish this damn run so I can go home. I feel like a thousand pounds running in a tornado uphill carrying a backpack full of lead…you know, amusing myself with descriptions of my struggle to survive the wilderness and all that…
I can see the 3½ mark just up ahead. Get ready to kick it up and sprint that last tenth of a mile…here I go…STOP!
There it is!! The Black crayon! It’s only half but who cares?? I was so happy I stopped and picked it up and looked around and probably looked crazy. Crazy girl carrying a plastic sandwich bag filled with broken crayon pieces. I guess I need a hobby, but I’m telling you I felt good and happy, and I got out and exercised so it wasn’t all bad.
Thus concludes my colorful story. You never read such a gripping tale of lost dreams, vanquished hopes, joyful discoveries and ultimate gratification, in life and love and all its mysteries. Inspirational AND inspiring; via the humblest of all school supplies.
And you thought your kids crayons were just for coloring. Picture is below.
just shy of pretty 