Why do we forget the good ones?

We’ve had an unseasonably warm snap up here this weekend. So, when it was 40 degrees and somewhat sunny (with alternating snow clouds) after church this afternoon, I conned Jake into throwing his bike on the back of the car, and driving into downtown for a 5 miler.

I’ve revised my goal for Oklahoma City – no longer aiming at the marathon, but shooting for crushing the half (under 2 hours being defined as “crushing” in my case). I’m also pitching RLRF until I finish the half. The consistent base mileage I’ve been looking for needs to get into my legs.

We started heading north up the river, gentle breeze in our faces. About a mile north, we pulled over – Jake’d left his gloves in the car, so I gave him mine as I’d heated up a bit. Under the bridge, and at about the second mile, Jake said “My knees are cold”.

Lucky for him, we’d hit the couple of hills up by the old Catholic cemetery. Jake made it up all the hills for the first time (yeah!) with just one tiny push, and the ride back into town was peachy.

There’s something great about running with the boy. Time to talk, time to push. Tough not to connect.

We wrapped up with a little bit of coffee and hot cocoa before we headed back to the house. Good times, good times.

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