The temperature was decidedly un-springlike, dipping into the 30s this morning, yet still I persevered and ran (he wrote, over-dramatically). Though my mileage is more couch to 5K than marathon, consistent movement has started to firm up the winter flabs.
When the double alarms went off at 6 a.m., I hit snooze once for each and then rolled out of bed almost like a real morning person. Though I may have zoned out in grogginess for a minute or two while I was getting dressed for my three-miler, my mood is much less hostile toward the prospect of hitting the pavement at such an inhumane hour.
You might mistake me for a regular early-riser, but I would caution you not to try chatting me up until I've had at least one cup of joe. Otherwise you might confuse my wry wit with rancor. And I wouldn't want to hurt your delicate sensibilities, now, would I?