No. "No excuses." That's what I keep telling myself. And if I don't stick with it, I'm going to be a lost cause. Slackerdom is far too easy and appealing. So, up I got, and threw on my running pants and a long-sleeved tee. Checked the weather -- showed 48 degrees. Okay. Livable. Yawn, stretch, groan. Let's do this!
There was a fair amount of cloud cover and, at first, I thought my GPS might do a number on me again, but eventually, the little green ball lit up, assuring me that somewhere out there, Big Brother was, indeed, watching. I set out at what felt like a somewhat faster pace than I've been employing of late. Felt good until I made it about half way up the hill on Baxter, and suddenly felt like walking might be nice. No, I thought. Keep chugging along. So, I did.
I'm going to be damn glad when a measly 1.2 miles doesn't feel like 12. Sheesh. But I ran it all, and clocked a semi-decent 10:27 min/mile pace. At least I'm moving in the right direction. Going to have to sneak an extra run in either tomorrow morning or Friday (probably the latter), as Saturday or Sunday runs seem highly unlikely. I aim to be having fun with friends in Indy this weekend. Woot!