Day 12.5

Well I ran four days last week and already two days this week (please note that all my weeks begin with Monday). So yeah, I am awesome. Or so stubborn that when I say thirty I freaking mean thirty (also please note that I am trying to refrain from cursing as my son now likes to say such words as mama, dada, purple, cracker, bubbles, book, and so one). And another please note - when he says cracker, he don't mean the kind you put cheese on. I kid. So anyway, back to running. Today I experienced what no person who is still waiting for that god damn, er darn, promised runner's high needs to experience. About 10 minutes into my run, I detected the unmistakable odor of, oh wait for it, BACON, also known as the chocolate of meats. I'll recreate the dialogue in my head:

Oh good lord, seriously, running is not fun. I mean, really, what the hell. Did an old lady just past me? At least this song is okay, and why the hell am I wearing fleece when running. Am I not in California? Stupid Massachusetts in me. Oh my god. What the hell is that? Is that bacon? What the hell man!! Why is it that I trying to be healthy am forced to smell bacon while running. Life is taunting me. Do you think is okay if you just try to eat the air? Yeah, I do too.

So there you go. I don't know who was having the bacon special today, but the better stop because trying to eat the air made me look like a rabid shitzu.