This past month has been, honestly speaking, one of the best months of my life. I got back on a plane for the first time in a while, and regained my love for a city I've disliked for a while. The San Francisco giants won the world series, and along the way, I came to realize that I living life as a cynic isn't my schtick - that I'm a hopeless romantic and just need to accept that fact and move on with life.
I resolve today to train in earnest for the next month, because otherwise I'm toast. I went to my Chiropractor and massage therapist last week for an adjustment to my jacked up right side. Something is rotten in the state of Fraleigh, and that would be my right leg. I'm going to grin, bear it, and cross-train like a motherf*cker, so that I can get through the 26.2, one month and 5 days from today.
Tomorrow at 6am, I'll be out pounding that pavement for a little while, working that leg back into shape.
Wish me luck, pounding that pavement and righting the life of sloth that I've been living for the last month. No more hot dogs, no more beer. It's go time.
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