So this post is coming extremely late, but that's because today ended up being really busy. I don't object to busy days though; they go by quickly, and don't leave much time to worry about silly things. I'm an aimless worrier so keeping busy is really good for me. Anyway....
I was all set to wake up early this morning and start the morning run routine...the alarm was screaming for a solid ten minutes before I even noticed. This was at 6am (6:10 by the time I got to it). Knowing my infatuation with my bed and pillows, I had foresight last night and set a second alarm for 7am. I woke up at 8. Crap. Well, that gave me just enough time to get showered and ready to go work the Erie County Fair again today. There was no morning run. *sigh* As I am driving there I am even more disappointed because the weather is finally perfect; cool, no humidity, cloudless and sunny. Double crap. To add salt to my no-run guilty wound, as I arrive at the fair I realize today is the Fair 5K, and I have to walk right through it to get where I need to go. Seriously. The running gods were smiting me. Luckily, the shift passed quickly, but there would be no run after, because I was meeting a friend for coffee after.
This was no ordinary coffee date. I met with my dearest high school friend Nikki. We have been friends since we were 15, and she is a runner. So while I was not running, we met to talk about running. Close enough, right? (yeah, not even close, I know). I have seen Nikki in FOREVER, and I called her out of the blue when I decided to do this half marathon thing. Turns out, she is running the same event, but the FULL marathon. I would die. Literally. But we decided to meet up to catch up and chat about gels (some gooey stuff to keep you from dying while running until forever). I found out she reads my little blog (HI NIKKI!!!!!!!!!!) and said she would run with me once in a while! We started talking about shit runners think about while running. I was glad to see I wasn't alone. Here are some examples:

• When you start running, you're initially THRILLED. You feel strong and confident and glad you are doing something good for your health
• 5 minutes into the run you wonder how far you've gone, only to realize its only been a half mile. WTF.
• By 10 minutes in you wonder why the hell you're doing this. It's hot, you're tired. [insert extremity] hurts and you're making it worse.  
• By the second mile, you're rationalizing reasons to stop; that running is totally not worth it, and you would rather be fat and happy on your couch.
• By 15 minutes in, you being to play mental games with yourself; to the end of the block; 5 more minutes; you've gone this far.
• By 20 minutes, you turn on yourself; keep moving fatty!; omg, don't be lazy; seriously, you're wussing out now?!
• By the last leg of your little running adventure, you find new confidence in yourself; YOU GOT THIS; YEAH, ALMOST DONE; I'M KING OF THE WORLD!

I have concluded that being a runner is just being periodically bipolar. But by the time you're finished, you're happier than a fat kid with an ice cream cone.
So after coffee with Nikki, I had about 30 minutes before I needed to start getting ready for work. Usually I would take this time to power nap, and then have to peel myself from the clutches of the demon comfy bed. But all that talk of running made me super motivated. So I threw on some shorts and tank and my running shoes, leashed the dog and took off running in the neighborhood. The weather was still great and I couldn't waste it.
Well, like I said, I threw on clothes for running. It was a haphazard effort. I donned a pair of shorts from Target; they have what are supposed to be spandex compression shorts attached to mesh shorts over them. The idiots guide to compression-wear. About three strides into my run, the spandex part rolled right up and hid under the mesh like the socks of the wicked witch after a house fell on her. Whatever, no time for this. Keep running. One more block into the run, and my crotch apparently got hungry and started eating the mesh part of the shorts. Ladies, if you are not a super model and your thighs touch even a little, you know what I am talking about when I comes to shorts. Screw it, keep running.
As a topper to this lovely ensemble, I was rocking a blue sports bra with slightly less than ideal support, and a bright pink racer-back tank with a flower and the one strap. I was a running fashion disaster. Don't care; must run.
By the end of mile one, I was sweating and panting. As I begin the last leg of my brief afternoon run, I come upon a neighbor having a lovely gathering. As I pass the populated yard, who else but a group of shirtless, perfectly-toned-physique gentlemen litter the yard. I run past, smiling awkwardly, sweating, panting, with my shorts-devouring crotch, overly jiggly boobs and barking dog. FML. Must. Run. Faster.
I round a corner to my relief, only to be confronted again, not my one house party, but TWO on that block. SERIOUSLY!?
I completed my little 2.11 mile run in 18 minutes and 34 seconds. I probably could've moved faster if my shorts weren't seeking refuge in my lady bits. I think I'll stick to morning runs from now on, no matter how great the bed seems.