Eight

Yes, eight. That’s how many miles I ran yesterday

Not only did I run it at a great pace (9:04 pace) but I felt amazing afterwards.

Okay, I may or may not have been unable to keep my refuel smoothie down but who knew peaches didn’t sit right.

Anyways, my body feels great. I keep expecting to feel horrible after a run but my body continue to surprise me

I even decided to push my four miler to the end of the day thinking I would be too sore this morning and this was not needed at all. I wanna run right now and regret the decision

My running has become way more than just a stress reliever, it’s like a counselor for my relationship with my body.

It’s hard not to appreciate my body when it can do things like this. It’s hard to be hateful when I love what it can do. It’s hard to fully accept that I may be stronger and better than I ever gave myself credit. Running forces me to like my body. Running forces me to treat it right. Running is the stronghold in a storm of disordered thoughts that keep begging me to relapse. Running keeps me recovered.

On a different note, yours truly, handed in a project that I may have spent 6 hours on. It was intense and huge and big deal.

Yours truly, did great except for one little thing.

Oops

Has a typo ever made you hand in something inappropriate?