Wake to the alarm and come up with so many reasons not run : too cold, too dark, rest is important, that dream was funny, forgot to put new tunes on my ipod, don't want to wake up Magoo, Hubby's warm...
Slowly and reluctantly amble out of bed for a lake run.
(Mainly because Hubby is waiting for my return so he can go paddle).
Remind myself that this time next week I will be absolutely freaking out!
Hit the road and look for 'the zone'.
Take deep, fresh breaths, remember why I love this running caper and start to push the legs.
Turn up Nirvana another notch.
Pour another drink and light up another cig.
Push my mate about, laugh and speak/shout incoherently about something or other.
Wonder what the hell that chick is doing running past my porch in the middle of a Saturday night.
Ask the rest of the boys if I'm seeing crap, only to have her run back past like forty minutes later.
My Sunday now starts at the same time that a great night out used to come to an end!
At least I know there are a whole gaggle of bubby Mums up and about too.
Shar :-)
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