A running friend posted she was going for the Runner's World 38 day streak challenge. The idea is to run at least a mile a day, every day, from Memorial Day until the 4th of July. No small feat for someone like me.
For some reason, it sounded like a good idea at the time. I held off on my normal Sunday run and went out for a strong 2 miles Memorial Day morning.
It was a great run, everything felt good about it from the fact that I was taking 1 - 1:30 minute walking breaks after 5 or more minutes of running to the route and pacing to... well, you name it. It all felt good. I was pumped and ready to go.
Then I woke up this morning and thought, "Damn, I have to run today?!" I had nightmares about it (mixed in with scenes from Kung Fu Panda 2 and the Avengers... don't ask) and this morning I looked out on a foggy day and realized there was no way I was getting out of my pjs to go for a 1 mile run.
The powers that be then took aim at me with a cosmic clue by four and smacked me the way Salty smacked that ball Saturday night into the bleachers. There it was calling from across the room: my treadmill.
Really... a treadmill? It's almost June and it's unplugged and folded up with my husband's glider behind it now. Rather than risk another smack from the cosmic clue by four upside the head, I sighed and moved the glider, lowered the treadmill bed and plugged it in. A mile later I was still cursing the powers that be, but it was done. Day two is now in the books. Miss Bama, this one was for you as another OFA participant.
Tomorrow I will dress and go outside because it's just not worth all that work for one mile. On the other hand, knowing I can do that will deter me from saying it can't be done.
Two down, 36 to go.