This evening I was sitting at home working on some projects and I thought to myself, "I should start running again." I hunted the thought down like a cockroach and tried to stomp it dead, but cockroaches are made of stronger stuff than that. The thought wouldn't go away.
I dug out all my running gear and got ready to head out, but the thought of going to the gym stopped me dead in my tracks. I really couldn't force myself to get in the car and drive over there. The idea cockroach scratched frantically at the door, but he couldn't get through it.
And then something freakish happened. I spotted an old fanny pack sitting on a shelf. I stuffed my keys, drivers license, and phone into it and strapped it around my waist. And then out the door I went.
I ran. Out in the real world. I'm pretty sure I'm going to do C25K again from scratch, maybe this time not on a treadmill. I'm still not sure I'm wild about this outdoors thing-- I had a hell of a time pacing myself-- but who knows.
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