Still achy from Saturday's race, I wondered if I really needed a good rest day more than I needed to maintain this run-streak. Maybe I used work as an excuse to "forget" the run-streak? Maybe I should take the hint? The streak doesn't matter to anyone but me anyway...
But at 44 days into this year's streak, a slow-and-easy mile wouldn't kill me.
If last year's streak taught me anything, it's that part of the run-streak is about the routine and part is about overcoming the mental hurdle of "I'd rather not run because ______." (Insert typical runner complaint here: It's raining. It's too cold. It's too hot. I'm tired. I'm too busy. I'd rather eat cookies.)
The streak won.
I grabbed a flashlight and headed out the door.
I turned a corner and realized I didn't need my flashlight. The neighborhood was ablaze with Christmas lights.
I took my time, admiring the decorations as I ran.
The neighborhood was silent. It was just me, the pavement, and the lights. I rounded corners and wove up and down streets to tour the twinkle lights. 10 minutes turned into 15. Then 20.
What started out as an obligation turned into the highlight of my day.
Running is funny that way.
Some days you want to run, and you just don't have the juice.
Some days you don't want to run, but you go anyway, and it's magic.