Just when I think I couldn't possibly feel any worse, I do.
I took yesterday off in preparation for today's outdoor run. I knew I'd have to exert myself more. I knew I'd have to drastically slow my already ridiculous pace. And I knew I'd never make it as far as I could on the treadmill. I was right. I trudged around my hilly neighborhood at a glorified walk, heaving for air, my lungs so fiery I couldn't breathe. I made one painfully slow loop, roughly one excruciating mile, before I collapsed. Twenty minutes after finishing, I'm coughing like crazy and still haven't caught my breath. It was agony. I never want to do that again!!! And now I'm worried that I've got exercise-induced bronchitis. Even my ear canals burn!
But on a happy note, my weight magically dropped overnight. I have no idea why, considering I've been baking Christmas cookies all week. It must be nature's diabolical way of keeping me from giving up this plan.
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