My weight goal for the year just ain't goona happen. Unless I go all Kate Moss and stop eating, and even then it's highly unlikely I'd hit it in 4 weeks. Of December. In Nebraska. So, what's a guy to do?
Interesting thing, I'm at like 3457 miles for the year, which means I totally blew my 3000 miles/year goal out of the water, and could just stop now and take a (cold) month off. I sure could.
But, you know, what fun is that?
So there are 30 days left in the year and you know what? Time to go out with a bang. 18.1 miles/day and I've got 4,000 for the year.
Cake.
Err wait, no cake. Cake is bad. So is pie. Except pumpkin pie. Okay that's bad too.
Anyway. It's cold. Waah waah waah boo freaking hoo. I was cranking out 200 mile weeks when it was in the 90s, and you know what? That sucks just as bad. It hurts too, just in different ways.
(silence, by the way, I'm doing a good job convincing myself..)
4,000 will be a nice little accomplishment. The Trucker seems to agree, it rode like buttah this morning. Absolute new Brooks geeked out with ffenders and big cross tires buttah. 7 miles down for the day, 11 to go.
0 comments:
Post a Comment