This is the Thursday in a week that won't die. A week full of Monday attitudes and tight spaces; allergies and a pile of tissues; a sore ankle and a visit to the Rothman Institute; 8:30PM bedtimes, wine and dayquil; deadlines, missed, made and otherwise; weak workouts that left me gasping and an all-time struggle of a cross-training trip to the Art Museum Steps; new running shoes; Tough Mudder preparation; and a poor attitude.
This morning I set out to run for 45 minutes, stretch all the bad stuff out, drink an excessive amount of coffee and charge at the day. My new attitude didn't seem possible until the last 9 minutes of my run. About .75 of a mile from the gym, my stride finally felt natural, the figurative blast of wind was now at my back, the only thing I heard was rowing intervals with my own breathing, and just as quickly Thursday became like any other and 9 minutes melted away the days that came before.
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