Sprints are going to kill me. I am almost to the point where I want to leave a note on each of my neighbours’ doors letting them know that if they see me lying in the grass in the park across the street, I am not resting — I am dead — and please call an ambulance.
Also, if you own a video camera you may want to drop by while I’m running sprints because it’ll go viral. In my head I am a gazelle, running my 30 second sprints with a smooth grace rivaled only by the cheetah. The reality is probably closer to this.