Day 31 - One Month In

Over the last month, I have run at least one mile, outside, every day. I've covered 88.5 miles and burned approximately 9800 calories. All this took up about 12 hours and 41 minutes. (Data accumulated in the most excellent SportTrack application.)

I've been trying to think of other things that I've done for 31 straightdays. All I came up with was eating, sleeping, checking email, and urinating.

This month, I have, unbelievably, gained a pound and a half. Considering the mounds of food I've been putting away (easily 3 feet of sushi, a dozen cheeseburgers (some doubles), a bushel of fries, doughnuts, two loaves of banana nut bread, an entire pizza, several partial pizzas, my share of adult beverages, and a package of chocolate pop-tarts, just to name some) that's really not that bad.

I've run hungover, in sub-zero windchill, 52F, wind, rain, snow/ice/slush, and sun.

I've forgotten my watch, to charge my watch, gloves, shoes, jacket, hat, and once, all of my gear.

I've heard from several old friends. Some with encouragement. Some with stories. Some lending their own humor. All reminding me that I've been lucky to have crossed paths with such great people.

I've even made some new friends. I haven't met any of them in person yet, but we've shared our experiences and commiserated over email.

I've also been reminded how good it is to devote just a few minutes, every day, to doing something good for myself. That's it's ok to be selfish. It's important to look after our own needs, especially when you feel out of control of your own life.

Most importantly, I've rediscovered for myself the sheer joy of that running brings me. I've always talked about it, but now I feel it again. And man, does it feel great.

So great, that today I treated myself to a ground punishing, pavement melting... ok, to be honest it was still pretty cold, so... pavement warming, blur inducing, time warping, good ol' fashion ass-kicker of a hard, fast, run. One of those runs that forces bad thoughts and feelings and memories out of your pores, leaving room for goodness. It's been a long time...

Numbers: 3.0 miles, dockin'... pace somewhere between KFA and suicide. Was fun to see the dog forced out of a trot and into a gallop.