I awakened this morning to thoughts of a longer run, something in the 11-14 range. I even plotted a few various courses allowing for wind direction changes. I was a man on a mission. Then, I didn't head out the door. And the longer I didn't head out the door, the more my long run, became a medium run, and soon thereafter, a short or even non-existent run.
Often times the mind is willing but the body balks. Today was the opposite. My legs felt rested, my knee was fine, but I did NOT want to run. So I put it off a little more. When 9:30 came, I had no choice but to face my nemesis.
My phone said it was 42 degrees "feels like" 32. They had that right. It felt COLD. Just what a non-motivated procrastinator needed on the day before Thanksgiving. BUT, being the hardy soul I am, I trudged out into the deep freeze, risking life and limb, to log the daily run. After all, once I get running the juices will flow and I will feel great. Right? Yeah, whatever....
8 slow, miserable miles, and I was done. And to quote the philosopher Forrest Gump, "That's all I'm going to say about that."