Muffin Run

Muffin Run: (Muff-en-Run) Noun. Important event. Verb. To run to a location of baked goods. To complete an exercise near pastries. To complete a daily exercise with the intent of eating delicious muffins. 
Have you ever seen an elephant run? Comical. Yes, they might get up to 16 kph (10mph) which might be a wee bit faster than average humans. But they sure don’t look very good doing it. Elephants don’t have the sleek muscular stride of the African gazelle, they actually seem more like they are in the middle of falling and trying to recover. Controlled lumbering. This is what I look like when I run. I look like an elephant crossed with a penguin, then trying to run in the play ball pit at McDonalds. Yes, I look good. 
I run at ‘dream speed’. You know dream speed; the speed at which you run in your dreams when a man with a chainsaw is chasing you. You want it to be fast. But you can seem to make your legs work. Needless to say, I not very fast. I went running today, and because I have respect for actual runners, I will clarify and say I did more of a walking shuffle. If I were in a horror movie, I would be the blond girl who trips at the beginning of the movie and breaks her ankle, then becomes the first splash of red. 
I admire runners. Their trim bodies effortlessly glides across the kilometers. African gazelles. I am sure I could look like that as well, but I enjoy sleeping late and hot chips and gravy much more. My running goals now are for a half marathon, called the ‘Great Barrier Reef Marathon’ in Port Douglas, Queensland, Australia. Myself and a couple friends have decided to take on this endeavor and we are currently in training. Well, I should say two of us are training and the other is going on wine tours. 
It is funny, you never really know the pain your body feels after putting in a few kilometers. After today, I think I might have discovered a few muscles I did not have before. I might have let out a bit of a yelp as I climbed into bed. There are two times in our lives when we want people to know our aches, pains, and general whingeing. When we are over the age of 70 and when we have done with a hard workout. Nobody wants to actually hear either, but we do insist on telling others. The grunts of getting up and down out of a chair. The bruising and tenderness of muscles and joints. The bowel movements; colour, frequency, and size. I take that back, seniors don’t bore or disgust us, I think it might just be the physically fit (or training to be fit).    
My latest run ended in a delightful custard pastry with icing and coconut. Funny how a bit of sugary carbohydrate makes the pain of 10km go away. This is what I like to call a ‘muffin run’. When my dear friend recommend we turn our run into a muffin run we both picked up our pace. In fact, you can look at the GPS recording of our adventure and see that the final couple kilometers was indeed the fastest of them all. 
Ahhh, how we can be as food motivated as an elephant running to a fresh pasture.  

Have you ever seen an elephant run? Comical. Yes, they might get up to 16 kph (10mph) which might be a wee bit faster than average humans. But they sure don’t look very good doing it. Elephants don’t have the sleek muscular stride of the African gazelle, they actually seem more like they are in the middle of falling and trying to recover. Controlled lumbering. This is what I look like when I run. I look like an elephant crossed with a penguin, then trying to run in the play ball pit at McDonalds. Yes, I look good. 
I run at ‘dream speed’. You know dream speed; the speed at which you run in your dreams when a man with a chainsaw is chasing you. You want it to be fast. But you can seem to make your legs work. Needless to say, I not very fast. I went running today, and because I have respect for actual runners, I will clarify and say I did more of a walking shuffle. If I were in a horror movie, I would be the blond girl who trips at the beginning of the movie and breaks her ankle, then becomes the first splash of red. 
I admire runners. Their trim bodies effortlessly glides across the kilometers. African gazelles. I am sure I could look like that as well, but I enjoy sleeping late and hot chips and gravy much more. My running goals now are for a half marathon, called the ‘Great Barrier Reef Marathon’ in Port Douglas, Queensland, Australia. Myself and a couple friends have decided to take on this endeavor and we are currently in training. Well, I should say two of us are training and the other is going on wine tours. 
It is funny, you never really know the pain your body feels after putting in a few kilometers. After today, I think I might have discovered a few muscles I did not have before. I might have let out a bit of a yelp as I climbed into bed. There are two times in our lives when we want people to know our aches, pains, and general whingeing. When we are over the age of 70 and when we have done with a hard workout. Nobody wants to actually hear either, but we do insist on telling others. The grunts of getting up and down out of a chair. The bruising and tenderness of muscles and joints. The bowel movements; colour, frequency, and size. I take that back, seniors don’t bore or disgust us, I think it might just be the physically fit (or training to be fit).    
My latest run ended in a delightful custard pastry with icing and coconut. Funny how a bit of sugary carbohydrate makes the pain of 10km go away. This is what I like to call a ‘muffin run’. When my dear friend recommend we turn our run into a muffin run we both picked up our pace. In fact, you can look at the GPS recording of our adventure and see that the final couple kilometers was indeed the fastest of them all. 
Ahhh, how we can be as food motivated as an elephant running to a fresh pasture.  

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