Anyways, so last Friday we took our running outside. Let me tell you we almost died! It was the hardest most tiring run I have ever done. We had to stop a couple of times to get our breath and to convince ourselves that we could continue. In our defense it was extremely hot. We went home feeling defeated and a little worried about the upcoming race.
The next day Augusta and I went on a 3 mile run. This time I didn't stop to walk, but my time was a little embarrassing. Nonetheless, the run felt easier. This might have something to do with the course being relatively flat and the weather being much, much cooler.
Tuesday Ashley and I met at the gym. You know when you are running and everything feels great. Your strides are perfect, your legs feel strong, your shoulders are relaxed and your breathing is under control, not to mention that your workout music is like BOOM BOOM POW! This is what Monday felt like for me. I love days like this! I felt like the chick below in the picture.
Then came Wednesday. The roles were completely reversed. Ashley felt great and in the zone. I on the other hand was hanging onto the treadmill for dear life. 
Today we decided to step it up a notch and run at a slightly harder pace. Our initial goal was to run at a pace of 6.8 (we usually run at 6.7) for 3.4 miles (we usually run 3.2 miles). We were also hoping this new pace would allow us to run the distance of the race (3.1 miles) in under 27 minutes. At about 2.8 miles I finally looked down at the treadmill and realized if I wanted to be under 27 minutes at 3.1 I would have to step it up. I didn't make it. I was over by 22 seconds or so. Not to mention that I had nothing left to run the remaining .30 miles. Speaking of which, I try and hold out as long as possible from looking down at the treadmill to see how far I am. Nothing is worse than looking at the clock and seeing you are only at 2.4 miles. Does anybody else do this, or am I crazy?
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