The alarm went off at 4:30am and I thought, "I can't. Not today."
And then, I heard the wind and thought, "Sweet Fancy Moses...who in their right mind would get out of their bed and drive into that?....F that noise."
But I had to pee. God damn it. It's always the pee that gets you.
So, I looked at myself in the mirror, giving every justification for going back up the stairs and thought, "How bad do you want it?"
And, well, the truth is, I want it really bad. It's shallow and superficial and silly, but I'm one size away from my old jeans and a couple of inches away from my favorite boots. And, well I'm on a pretty rigid training plan for my half marathon and so, yes, I want it.
I put my clothes on, grabbed a sad looking banana, a big cup of steaming coffee and went out to the car. It was cold. I was pissy.
And then, I stepped onto the treadmill and owned that bitch of a 3.5 mile run thanks to a little Christina Aguilera and Pink. And before I knew it, I was back in business.
So now, like every cheesy 80's self help book encourages, I have a post-it-note on my bathroom mirror asking "How bad do you want it?"
Oh yeah...and the boot sits in the corner of the latrine beckoning me to put on my running shoes...so that one day I can fit into a sexier version.