Aw snap, this is why I don’t eat nachos!

I was awakened by the deafening Marimba tone of my iPhone. It was the AT&T guy, calling to install my wireless and crap, like two hours early. So while I’m up, I might as well do that 5-miler I’d narrowly avoided the night before, right? I mean, the Greensboro Marathon isn’t gonna run itself, amirite, amirite?

So I hit the Greenway, and I felt like garbage. All because someone (I) had had the brilliant idea to eat a plate of nachos when I know good and well my practically-vegan behind couldn’t digest it.

I slogged through the first mile. Slogged through the second and part of the third, and it felt like my legs, infused by all the saturated fats of the queso, just wouldn’t turn over as fast as my mind was telling them. Toward the end, my legs caught up, and I even caught sight of a few coworkers putting in some mileage on the Greenway.

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Long story short, I don’t eat nachos (before a run at least) with good reason. With every step I took, I could feel the queso roiling around in my stomach, and I totally regretted my decision as I pounded it out. today is what I would call a bad run. But it’s all good, right? Tomorrow will be a more FloJo type of situation.

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