I've did something this weekend that I can never remember doing - at least not in the two years since I started running.
I didn't run. At all. Not one step.
I seriously cannot remember the last time - or whether there was a "last time" - that I had a weekend without running.
Admittedly, I feel a little guilty about the back-to-back blank boxes on my training chart - especially on a weekend when I have more time and daylight to get in good runs.
But I'm not going to try to justify my weekend off with any excuses. Sure, I had a work commitment that kept me busy for most of Saturday and filled my Sunday with some enjoyable personal time, but I really had plenty of opportunity to get a run in.
In fact, I had the best intentions of running, even having a 10-miler planned for Saturday and a shorter run on Sunday.
Instead, I spent the those hours I usually spend running like most of my peers probably do - sleeping in, easing into the day and staying inside on a cold, icy morning.
And that's okay. I might even say it was a nice change. (Although I don't expect it to become a habit.)
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