So yesterday, I almost considered skipping out on a day of my one-mile streak because I was kinda tired, and it was raining sort of hard.
One of those summer storms in North Carolina. But the thought of making it to the end of the streak (where you run a mile a day, every day between Memorial Day and the 4th of July, making for 39 consecutive days of running), and having skipped today over a dumb little reason made me feel bad. And I dragged myself up to trot the one mile (after I’d taught a Zumba class).
Turnt up the iPod. Blurred Lines. Actually model-strutted a few steps. Looked around. Practiced my dance moves, should one of my friends play it at their wedding.
I swiped my finger across my Garmin 610. And waited for the satellites to load. ::vibrate:: they’re loaded!
Started Blurred Lines again. Robin Thicke, you so sexy.
And off I went. “This isn’t so bad! You’re good! This feels so good!” Trotted around the corner of Peace Street. Happened to glance down as Robin told me to “Shake ya rump!” and my GPS was off. Because I hadn’t pressed start. Fail. Fail. Fail.
Oh well. At least I got up and did it. I’ll remember to press the start button next time.