First name: "He's A" Last name: "Turd"

I'm sick again.  And this time, I can't stop running or I won't make my goal.  I grabbed some Advil, drank a ridiculous amount of orange juice, and bundled up in seven layers for my 1.5 minute walk to the gym.  It felt like a run from one year ago, I kept checking the time and the minutes weren't moving.  I ran a nine minute mile again, and I was so winded.  No matter how much I wanted to stop though, I just didn't want to stop.  All I wanted to do is finish those three miles I set out to do.  There was this little runner voice in my head saying "Only two more minutes for this mile, you can do anything for two minutes." There was also a voice saying "Enough! Stop now! This is so silly! Why did you make this goal?!"  I'm completely exhausted, but I made it.  I have three weeks left to finish my mileage.  This last month, I'll need to run double the amount I should be running because I slacked off so much before.  And even though I'm sick, my nose is running, I can barely breathe from minimal exertion, all I can think of is ... next year I should double my miles and run 630 miles.  Two marathons a month.  If I can do it this month, why can't I do it again.

There's one big thing that I have been overlooking in terms of all this "make myself happy for a year": religion.  Church has never really been fun, and it's always felt like sort of an obligation.  Have to get up early, have to get good seats, have to go every week and smile!  Today I went to a catholic church I've been thinking about going to since I moved here.  People were laughing the whole time, and I actually got something out of what he was saying.  Although it was hard to understand him because he didn't pronounce any "R's".  He ended the mass by spontaneously standing out of the traditional catholic script and saying, "There was an old lady who was on her fourth marriage.  I asked her, 'What does your husband do?' And she replied, 'He's a funeral director.'  I was a little shocked and asked her, 'What did the others do?' She said, 'My first husband was an investment banker.  My second one was a circus clown.  The third was a preacher.  And the fourth is a funeral director.'  I asked her, 'Why men with such diverse careers?' And she replied, 'One for the money, two for the show, three to get ready, and four to go!'  The whole congregation was laughing.  Was I really at church?  I'm going back here.

I also did something fun to make me laugh.  I got nostalgic a month ago (blame holidays) and texted the ex who I dated for four years.  I'm not really sure why.  He took a day to respond and sent his signature polite "How are you?" message in return.  He's great at telling me nothing but being very polite all at the same time. I told one of my good friends from school that I what I did and she said save his name as something ridiculous.  Something like "This person sucks."  So I saved him as first name: "He's A" and last name: "Turd".  Hopefully next time I think its a good time to be nostalgic, I see this and realize that it's a bad idea.  No one wants to talk to a turd.  I'm going to crawl into bed ...

278 Miles Down 37 Miles to Go