Wednesday morning I woke up feeling (and probably looking) like a chubby Keith Richards.

It was the first time in the six weeks I’ve been doing this that I deliberately decided I wasn’t going to run in the morning.  Maybe I was adjusting to the time change from our trip, but I just wasn’t having it. After a somewhat crappy day, I decided I wasn’t going to miss a day of my program so long as I was healthy and able to run, so I went out in the evening.

I didn’t have any plans in mind other than to do what Couch-to-5k asked for that week.  I tried my first five minute interval, and it wasn’t quite successful.  I managed four minutes, walked for 45 seconds, and then ran another minute.  After the other intervals, I walked for a while and then on the way back home, I felt a new kick of energy and decided it was time to try again.  I didn’t look at my watch, and my music was too loud to hear the time go off, but the time was all zero’s when I checked it.

I’ll be darned. I ran for five minutes straight.

On top of that, I was able to do 3 miles in exactly 45 minutes. Needless to say, I was highly satisfied!

Initially, I wasn’t going to push it, but as I was approaching mile one, I saw two firefighters from the nearby station running toward me. Anytime I run past someone, I usually greet them and pause my music so I can hear. I did so, and they both kind of nodded and smirked. “Dude looks like he’s gonna die,” one of them said as they passed, “maybe we should run him in…ha ha ha.” Great, I thought…these ripped Mario Lopez and John Cena lookalikes just mocked me…and that’s all the motivation I needed to turn it up a notch. I went out again this evening and did it again. Believe me when I say, I am on cloud nine…

Furthermore, I happy enough knowing that I don’t have to compete with Slater and a pseudo-wrestler…my wife is more than content picking this sweaty guy over anyone any day…

Am I blessed, or what?

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