On the schedule was 10 x 400's with equal recovery in-between. Basically that means to run 1/4 mile fast and then jog 1/4 mile... and repeat for a total of 10 times. I tacked on a warm-up and cool-down, too. Once I got home and looked at my stats, I realized I definitely should have been running faster on the fast intervals--it felt like I was going faster than a 9:00/mi! Oh well.
|This is the "fast" part in total|
|This is the "recovery" part in total|
|The run as a whole|
I leave for Arizona in 20 more days!! It's coming up so fast. I couldn't fall asleep last night because I kept picturing being on the airplane. As you probably know, I'm TERRIFIED of flying. I hate it more than anything. Which is kind of ironic because my brother is a pilot for Delta. When visiting him one time, he took us to the flight simulators that they use to train pilots for the airlines--and he let us fly them. Even though it was inside a building and it wasn't even a real airplane, I had a panic attack and had to get out of the simulator. THAT is how bad my fear is.
Speaking of that, someone asked me a while ago what the story is with me and the open-airplane I flew on last summer. Jerry and I took the kids to Minnesota to visit my brother Brian (we drove there, of course). Brian's roommate from college has a few different airplanes, and he invited us to the hanger for a barbecue and ride on the Breezy (a two-person completely open airplane). I had NO INTEREST WHATSOEVER in flying, but I went along to the hanger because Jerry wanted to go.
There was another family that knew Steve (my brother's college roommate), and they all went for rides and loved it. Jerry went last, and when I saw the pictures he took of himself, I thought, "What a cool pic to post on Facebook!! I so badly wish I could do that!" which led to my thinking about how this truly is the opportunity of a lifetime. And how SHOCKED would my family and friends be if I actually did this?!
So I told Steve I wanted to go for a ride. And I almost threw up. I went to the bathroom and literally was dry heaving. Steve knew I was terrified, and I really trusted that he wouldn't do anything crazy. I told him, "I'm going to cry and look completely miserable. So if you turn around and see me sobbing, don't worry about it. Just finish the flight." Hahaha. He promised that he'd get me back safely.
So I threw on a sweatshirt and the leather cap and goggles, and strapped myself as tightly as possible to the seat. My heart was racing and I couldn't breathe. I just kept reminding myself that in 10 minutes, I'd be back on the ground. And off we went...
|This is the Breezy... and no, I did NOT let my kids fly on it ;)|
|The view from the Breezy|
|Jerry's picture that made me decide to brave the Breezy myself|
|I wasn't faking the smile... I really loved it!|
|But I still held a death-grip to the seat|
|I forget the name of this airplane|
|It was Eli's very first time flying|
My flight to Arizona is in the morning, so I'm not sure if I'll be able to drink beforehand. I'll probably take some Valium, but that usually doesn't help. Just 20 days left of worrying.
Well this turned into a really long entry and I didn't mean for it to. Are you scared of flying? How do you deal with it?