The hottest month.
42 mile goal.
Craving air conditioning. Not sweating.
Falling off the MyFitnessPal wagon.
However, because of my stubborn nature, the dumb goal was met.
Every single mile included gobs of children.
Every single mile somebody cried.
Often multiple somebodies cried.
2.2 of those miles involved a very sweaty, very angry, 25 pound, beastly baby in the Ergo, because I accidentally left the stroller at home in the garage. That was all kinds of delightful for my marginally healed, three kids got sliced out of me, c-section scar.
But in the midst of the crying, the drama, they got outside. They got their wiggles out. They are entering soccer season more prepared than they have ever been before.
Let me just tell you, we are quite the spectacle on our adventures. Lately we have been walking on a trail frequented by lovely retired folks and their pampered pooches. Lovely retired folks who are not used to seeing multiple double strollers and lines and lines of small children walking/ running/ crying/ fighting.
As they see us coming, we can see their minds counting all of the small bodies in our care. They usually greet us with a polite, yet stressed out YOU HAVE YOUR HANDS FULL!!!
Yes. Yes we do. Our sweaty hands are very full. Full of awesome.
I also didn't get new shoes.
After heeding the overwhelming advice to go to a running store and be fitted, I decided to wait.
You see, the thought of having to run in front of the running store dude so he could figure out my stride or whatever is AWKWARD. Hauling four wild children into the store with me as I have to run for the dude? NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN.
Since August meant I had zero by yo'self time, It also meant that I had zero run awkwardly for the dude by yo'self time.
Maybe this month.
This months goal is 44 miles. Today is the 6th. My current tally is a gigantic goose egg. A big old zilchy zilch. I want to stay in and bake something. It's hot outside. But September is in for it. Watch out. Sweating to commence this evening.
I want a cupcake.