Get your pride back in just four easy miles!

And if you call now, we'll throw in a 5-hour supply of endorphins and an improved self image FREE!

Think you can't run? Doesn't matter! With the Pride Back program you can run, jog, walk your way to inner bliss.

Okay, okay. "Bliss" may be a slight overstatement. I think maybe I meant "run, jog, walk your way to decreased self loathing." But you get my drift.

And maybe I'm a little off about the four "easy" miles. "Easy" is a word that's wide open to interpretation, kind of like "alcoholic" or "murder."

I did go to the Hannaford training run last evening - thankfully fellow Reach the Beaconer Ann was going as well, and having a running cohort is good incentive.

It took some time to get the large group organized - and I think we irked a good number of other Back Cove runners/walkers by taking up a portion of the trail to do stretches and line up.

The group was divided into four smaller groups based on pace: the freakishly fast, the less-fast-but-still-fast, the not fast and the walkers. (Those are my ingenious naming conventions. The trainers aren't that moronic.) Each group had a few pacers to lead off, with signs on their backs proclaiming their speed.

Ann and I opted for the 10-minute mile group (that'd be the "not fast group" - no offense to other runners in that group who are sure they're running at lightning speed).

And with all the talk about how there was "no humidity" yesterday I figured it'd be a good 4.5-mile jaunt around the cove. But that sun - she's a killer. She's a melter of enthusiasm and a drainer of energy. She's an unrightful punisher.

And the sun is most brutal at the tail end of the day - like one last "I'm the sun, dammit!" before disappearing for the night. She hovers there in your line of vision, blindingly, kind of like when you're dragged downtown for questioning and the cops shove that light in your face.

And the sun makes you sweat just like being in that small, cinder block room with the one-way mirror does.

My point being, yesterday's run left much to be desired. During the points where we hit shade, it wasn't awful (though, no wonder, my energy level isn't exactly at an all-time high these days). But trudging up that incline toward the 295 bridge was painful. Totally exposed to the pounding sun and the similarly intense reflection off the water - plus the heat from the traffic - it was tiresome.

But Ann and I moved along, determined to get back in line with the training we'd let slide.

We walked a couple of times, which was a bit frustrating since we'd both run all the way around not three weeks ago.

But hey, if you don't maintain, you're going to lose it. It's a learning I've known since the third grade, when I'd worked my way up all year long to a 25-minute tripod - a gym class record. But summer came and the tripod training went by the wayside. The following year imagine my surprise - Suzi Benson usurped my title with a pitiful 15-minute effort. I'd lost my gift.

The key now is to keep motoring and not fall off the training wagon again. I can't bear to relive the Tripod Collapse of 1987.