A strange thought flitted across my mind the other day, as I thought about the upcoming week's workout regiment.
It was: "Hm, maybe I'll run Wednesday. Or run-walk. But definitely not bike, and definitely more than just walk."
Three weeks into my month of not running, it seems that I haven't quite lost the bug yet, in spite of all my head-shaking as I see runners braving the heat and humidity. What good news!
Did I run? Nope. But that's OK — I fear the loss of interest more than the loss of fitness. (I may retract this statement next month.)
Granted, several factors that weren't the sheer love of running kindled this desire: Smashburger, a Drake Diner milkshake, a Bauder Pharmacy hot fudge sundae, a weekend devoid of any exercise, and an unwillingness to devote an hour-plus to exercise when I had a long to-do list, to name just a few.
That's also OK. I don't care why I want to run, I just care that I do want to run.
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