and I found my Nirvana. Or Bruce Springsteen, as the case may be. (We all know I love me some "Born to Run.") I've had the worst cold this week--thank you, high schoolers, for all the germs--and running has been the last thing I've wanted to do. But the training must go, right? So it was on Tuesday when I headed out, feeling like I was at death's door, and gave myself full permission to run just as far as I could and be happy with whatever the resulting distance might be. Somewhere, somehow, the endorphins must have taken over because lo' and behold, around mile four, I found myself blissed out. Literally, I started playing air guitar while I was running! How scary is that?!? I must have been febrile. I'll take it though. It was a great run
The same thing happened again on Wednesday (minus the air guitar, thank God) and my "I'm just going to phone something in here, ummm, how about two miles?" turned into the full eight Hizzoner Higdon had scheduled.
Then I skipped yesterday's run. Shhhh.
This week's miles (so far): 13
Total Miles: 434
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