Seriously though, I think we’ve all about had enough of this rain business, and not to mention the shenanigans with the tornadoes. Enough already. I feel as if I’ve all but taken up a new residence in the storm bunker beneath North Hall.
Let me take a brief reprieve from complaining about the weather, and launch into a new series of complaints…
1) Would it have killed whom ever plans the Sunbelt Championship schedule to bother and check when Sunbelt athletes finals are occurring? Surely there is some kind of sick joke going on when, of my five classes, I only have two finals, both of which ironically fall on the first day of the Conference Championship meet. G.L.O.R.I.O.U.S.
2) This sinus infection/death cold/ headache monster residing within my body can take a long walk off a short pier. I’m sick of it (pun VERY much intended).
2a. Seriously though, I’ve grown weary with being so darned weary.
Ok down to BUSINESS.
This weekend, given that I will hopefully be able to breathe from both my mouth and nostrils, I will be running the Steeple at ULM
The last time I steepled, it was something of an awful sight. Preceding the race, I felt as if being a naive novice was to my advantage. Often, people go out and run a 5k after being a mile specialist and do quite well.
I was a cocky little twit.
Coming up to my first water barrier, I suddenly lost my entire concept of what I was doing, where I was, and what on earth was that gnarly looking structure I was steadfastly approaching. In order to successfully clear a water barrier, one must accelerate and approach their jump with measured confidence.
I had none.
Suddenly, I was a baby. I didn’t even know I had legs.
By God, what is running? How does one jump?
These are things that, presumably, one shouldn’t be thinking about when coming upon a barrier that, unlike a hurdle which can be easily knocked over, is composed of an unforgiving combination of steel and wood. Yikes.
Suffice to say, until I got the hang of the water jump, and indeed the rest of the jumps which taunted me with their solidity and sheer number, the race was ugly. However, out of that ostensibly dreadful experience was born an odd sense of love for the event. I’ve heard it said that Steeplers have to be a bit crazy, and apparently I’ve gone a bit out of my mind because I’m positively salivating for my next chance to steeple.
ENTER: THIS COMING WEEKEND…
I hope to look something like this
But of course I recognize and have come to terms with the potential for some of this…
Or indeed, even some of this action…
Alright, that’s absurd. But I’m certain that if I were to crash, I would feel very similar to this poor horse.
Seriously, where did its head go?
But in all seriousness, the last time I ran the steeple, admittedly, about as novice as they come, I ran something to the tune of 12:25. Sub 12 “may” potentially score at conference…so my fingers are DEFINITELY crossed.