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Day 10 of Janathon:  The day dawned drizzly and 40 degrees.  As I did my Saturday chores, I debated about what workout to do.  Run outside and ruin my decent hair day?  Workout inside doing Piyo or something and kick myself all day for not running?  Finally, I put on my big girl pants and headed out.  It wasn’t raining, really, more like mizzle. If you live in the Northwest, you know what I’m talking about.

My Garmin, bless its little neon green heart, didn’t find me via satellite until well into my run. I kept checking it as it struggled with “finding location” for several minutes. Undeterred, I eased into a good pace right away.  I had no idea what it truly was until much later. Faster. Alrighty. My long run morphed into a tempo run. I ran up the hill, turned around at the highway exit and powered back.  I also discovered that what I long considered a 4-mile route was actually a 3.67 mile route. Not the same. Sometimes, driving your route results in an inaccurate distance. I added on .33 miles in order to round it up.  Take that, Garmin!

As I ran along, mist and sweat mixing on my face, I spotted two small clusters of women running together. A pair passed by me on the opposite side of the road, ponytails threaded through their baseball caps. Right behind them were three more ladies.  In the back was a gal I recognized. Her bleached blonde pony streamed behind her like a banner. Clad in black, she moved with grace and power. I waved to her, smiling in greeting. She smiled and waved back. I don’t really know her, but I know she’s a machine. She inspires me. Runners share a unique bond forged of mutual struggle and joy.

I haven’t enjoyed running very much lately.  Today I just decided to go out and play, relax into the time. I found others doing the same.  What a great morning recess.

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