My running and a moral crisis averted

Its a snowy Sunday here in my part of Ohio. Or as my number one tortilla brother likes to call it, The Big O.
heh.
I did my recovery run from my long run today. I don't know why, but those always way take it out of me. I also don't know why I don't blog about my running more. Maybe because I totally suck at it. But whatever. There is something about officially training (where I have long runs and recovery runs and weekday runs and speed work outs that aren't that damn speedy instead of 'meh....i've got time...i could run today' runs) that sort of takes it out of you mentally, too. I dunno. Maybe like how when you know you're going to have a long hard day at work, you start the day out tired. Now the runs are short and easy. But you know that in 3 weeks or so, they'll be around 7 miles and then a few weeks after that, you'll begin to think of 7 as an easy long run day.
And you'll hope to God that once they get up to ten you don't forget your i-pod because singing the jingle for the Good Feet Store for 2 hours (which is totally how long it takes me to run ten miles) sucks. And for the last 3 miles of "back to doin' what i love and more....thanks to the good feet store...." over and over again, you're totally thinking about going to The Good Feet store and shoving their good feets insert thingies right up their good asses for writing such a catchy damn jingle.
But anyway. Now the runs are pretty easy and I'm damn thankful because it is, as I said, its snowy here and that means running on the treadmill to a DVRed Sucka Free Countdown from a couple weeks ago. Jadakis was on it and I like his new video. So there. But as long as I'm in the basement, stretching my cursed hips (that are cool 'cuz they create the dip that hood rat boys have always liked...but suck balls because it makes distance running problematic) I think its time to start strength training too. I know the cross training will help my half marathon training and maybe help me avoid walking like Fred Sanford for the week following my race.
Butohyeahstoopid. Recovery day always takes it out of you. And apparently, squats on the jiggly ball and upper body stuffs do too.
And now instead of accomplishing anything of worth I am sitting on the bed with my electric blanket reading my new most favorite blog of a stranger, trying to get a sleeping LD off my foot, and listening to the football game that TB is watching and saying, 'ow, ow, ow' every time I move.
But suddenly, in a Supernatural Dean Winchester should totally come save me from a ghost tv and maybe take me for some angry lovin' and cheese burgers way, the tv changed itself. I dunno why. Its new and I can't for the fuckin life of me, work it. Either way, Dean-o should investigate (my underwear).
What is more problematic about this change of television channel is that instead of football (totally acceptable background noise) it was on some damn Emo* whiny boy music and gymnastics.
Oh fuck no.
I may be a tree hugger and have many many recycle bins.
I may be Dr. Err at school.
I may be a distance runner with wicking shirts and ugly shoes that cost as much as pair of Jordans.
I may be really super totally excited about joining the Community Supported Agriculture Co Op this year.
I may say 'super totally excited.'
But over my dead dirty girl pirate hooker tattooed body will I listen to You're Beautiful and watch some little damn blonde fling herself around. Fuck no. I'm not havin' it.
Now.
The afternoon gets hairy and scary when I try to find something else.
I get all the way to the 300's and still nothing cooler on the tv.
Until I see Smoky and the Bandit.
Awesome.
But its on the County Music Station.
Now.
You wanna talk about a moral dilemma??? My tv has NEVER been on CMT. I very carefully click on BET so that I don't accidentally click on CMT. I thought my head was going to blow off and confetti was going to spew from my neck.
Good thing TB came in and changed it back to football.
Phew.
* um. i don't actually know what EMO music is... but I know that its whiny shit and it makes boys wear their pants too tight (no wonder they're angsty)and need hair cuts. I just hated this music.