...on the treadmill at lunch. I did them really, really fast. For me, anyway. It was the fastest I've run two miles in a very long time. I think the treadmill motivates me to run fast - the faster I run, the quicker I can get the hell off of it.
I went to the shop on Monday to get my shoes and inserts looked at. The staff loved my Road ID, but chastised me for my totally thrashed inserts and hooked me up with new ones. I was also advised to wear supportive shoes all the time, which, awww shucks, meant going directly home and getting on Zappos to buy a new pair of Naots. I'm digging all the new footwear, but it's pretty depressing to be told that my arches might be falling. I'm getting old. And here I'd thought I was the only woman alive to go through pregnancy and not have serious foot changes - my shoe size has never wavered from a 7.5. But all that gestating, lactating, and marathoning has indeed taken their toll on my perfect feet.
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