We just ate leftover Thanksgiving food. It was heaven. I followed my meal with a slice of Dutch Pumpkin Apple Pie that I made yesterday. My favorite.
This afternoon I went to the local Y to use the treadmill. My schedule had a 20-30 minute easy run, but as I got going, I realized I was on. So I ran the following 6.2 mile progression run:
8:31, 8:24, 8:13, 8:01, 7:35, 7:15, 7:16 (.2)
Total time: 49:27. By far my fastest 10k.
I felt like I could keep going and go faster. But I’m supposed to do a long run tomorrow, so I made myself stop. If McMillan’s pace calculator is to be believed, I’m on track for a 3:52 marathon. Of course, that assumes I can run 26.2 miles, which I’ve not ever come close to attempting. What I get from this is that it doesn’t seem too big a dream to qualify for the Boston Marathon (I need a time of at least 3:55) sometime next year with the proper training.
My college boy son has been in a mood. He’s not liking his college, his dorm, his major, his lack of spending money. It’s making me grind my teeth. At least he seems a little less surly today. I think sleeping in a nice, quiet bedroom helped. Still, even with all his grousing, he wants to get back to school because he’s bored out of his mind around us. He said so in those words. Kind of hard for me to have much sympathy for him when he talks like that.
Usually he loves visiting his grandmother’s, so I don’t know what’s up with that. Except I guess he’s missing whatever stupid party might be going on in Boston.
I may be an alcoholic, but I never drank even once in college. I always thought college parties were idiotic. Go figure. I’m sure this makes me some sort of hypocrite.
Anyway, as much as I hope I’m wrong, I suspect my kid is failing or doing poorly in his classes due to not studying and probably not attending class. A sixth sense and a few off comments of his make me believe this. Plus he confessed he dropped a math class because he failed the midterm. He got an 800 on the math SAT. This is not a class he should’ve failed if he’d put an iota of effort into.
I feel kind of disassociated from his struggles, probably because there isn’t a whole lot I can do about it. He’s not in a frame of mind to listen to me lecture or advise. I’m hoping he’ll grow out of this. Meanwhile, he’s in for tough love from me.
His behavior is a reminder to me that not much can be gained by making excuses and kidding yourself. He’s quick to blame outside sources for his problems when the reality is he has the power and responsibility to make his life the way he wants it. Sure there will be road blocks and challenges, but you can try to do something about them to persevere or you can wonder why you have such “bad luck.”
Be miserable, be happy. Choose.