Runstreak Day #373 - the sneaky secret runs...

Rumbled!!!

I get home from my secret sneaky run this evening and am busy trying to act nonchalant and not sweat all over the place.  Or do that post-cold weather run weird dry cough thing (is that just me?!).  Anyway... there I am, acting 'normal', and he says something like... '... blah, blah, blah, after your secret run, blah, blah'... wasn't really listening to the first bit.  But then mentally going 'shit!  He's found me out!!!' as I twigged that he knew I'd been running... so the last bit, I was busy going 'ermmm... what?  Ermmmm... only a little one...' and trying to decide whether to blatantly lie or confess.  And then how many secret runs to confess?

I went with confessing a bit of tonight's run.  I ran a couple of miles and then - because obviously I'd said I was just going for a walk - he'd asked me to go to the shop to buy a couple of bits for the children's lunches tomorrow.  Because getting stuff from the shop when you're just out for a walk is the kind of thing you *can* do... which, if I were running, I wouldn't be able to do.  But of course, I was *ahem* just going for a walk round the block.  And not being naughty and running.  So, I ran my little loop, then went to Tesco.  And accidentally stopped my watch while I was in there.

Whoops!  I restarted it and ran the half mile home, bag of shopping swinging and bashing me on the legs as I ran up the hill.  Things learned tonight?  Don't run with a bag of shopping... it hurts.

Also, don't attempt to lie completely that you haven't been running when you have.  Lie a little bit - it's much more convincing!  I said that I'd just run back up the hill from the shop and hadn't gone very fast because I'd been carrying the shopping.  Which was also a smidge of a lie because my Grade Adjusted Pace was 7:33 minutes per mile up the hill.

Anyway, I earned the right to run today.  I had my normal blubathon of counselling this morning... and then more blubbing to my doctor later on (am not sure whether PTSD stands for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder or Pitiful Teary Snivelling Disaster!!)... and needed head space.  Plus, I did my physio exercises like a good girl.

So... what's a few teensy fibs between friends?!  After all, I have only done one secret run... *winks*

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