The unfortunate thing about living in a nicer suburb is that my running experiences, unless I drive somewhere to run, are pretty boring. In NY, I'd be dodging and flipping off insane drivers and cyclists. I might even see a police chase. In CA, not so much. I just go and run.
Last week, I ran 47 miles. I missed one day because I decided that sleeping in on a recovery day would be a much nicer recovery than running a slow 6 miles. It was. However, I didn't cross the 50 mile mark for the week.
I did run a 20 miler on Saturday. I wasn't feeling it and I didn't get out until 8am, at which point, it was a sweltering 75 degrees (you think I'm joking, I'm not. It was hot.), so I didn't push it.
Not pushing it meant I ran 20 in 2:29 (7:28 miles). By the way, that tied my personal best for a 20 mile training run. Encouraging. However, well off the pace I was at for my 16 miler two weeks ago (7:10 miles). Tomorrow the treadmill calleth. Hopefully there aren't any insane retired Eastern Europeans with gold chains at the gym. Although at least I'd have an interesting entry.