I woke up, got out of bed, looked outside, and thought “Yeah. This is a good day for a run.”
I must be feeling a heavy dose of self-loathing right now. I started the One Hundred Push-ups program again a couple of weeks ago, and tonight I went for that run. I should probably just throw myself in front of a truck and save some time.
But hey, I got through it and my heart didn’t explode, so I guess I should call it a win.
Tomorrow I need to pick up a new Nike+ sensor. My current sensor is about three years old, so the battery is dead as a doornail. After I get new one I can start tracking my runs all proper-like again. I’ve set a simple “run more often” goal in Nike+, shooting for 10 runs over the next four weeks. Tonight’s probably won’t count due to said dead sensor. C’est la vie.
This is the first time I’ve not run on a track, too. Everyone tells me I’ll have more fun if I run through town or the park or something. This town doesn’t have the best reputation for taking care of its streets and they aren’t big believers in sidewalks, so I don’t know that I’d call tonight’s run fun, but I’ll grant it did feel a lot different from running on the track. For one thing, I’m sure the school’s cinder track is a spongy, horrible mess right now. For another, if I pussed out halfway through a run around town, chances are I’ll be far enough from home that I may as well suck it up and finish the run.
Unfortunately this is more time away from the keyboard when I’ve got a deadline for The Pack: Lie with the Dead looming. I need to get my act together on that one. Of course, I could also argue if I croak because I’m not in good shape, I can’t finish anything.