I dragged my feet all morning…

…then forced them to pound the pavement.

This morning I wanted to get out of bed an hour and a half before I actually got out of bed. I moved slowly, ate slowly and got dressed slowly. Even though I was putting on my running clothes, I spent most of it trying to convince myself I could put off the training workout I needed to do until later today. Or tomorrow. Or even later this week. Surely I would have time later this week. I was already moving slow and this run probably wouldn’t be any good anyway.

But I made myself do it. Even though I tried to talk myself out if it, I did it. I ran my mile-long intervals with five minute slow run breaks. I ran up and down the gorgeous streets of my neighborhood for about an hour. I looked at houses and listened to a mediocre podcast episode.

I took in the sights and smells and sounds of a beautiful morning. And I ran like a beast.

And I’m so glad that I did. Because I know this day has been much better for it, I’ll run my race in a few weeks better because of it, and I’m in a much better mood all-around.

Plus, I had a huge burrito from Chipotle for lunch and didn’t feel guilty about it at all. Win/win.

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