It was 49 degrees this morning when I ran 9 miles in the rain. Nobody else showed up, just me. When I ran past my car at the 7-mile point of the run it called out to me. “You can stop Tom. There is no need to continue. You’ve done enough. It is dry and warm in here. There are dry clothes you can put on. You will feel so much better in here. You need not suffer any longer. It can end - right now. Nobody else is out here running today anyway. Call it a day before you hurt yourself or get sick from the cold and rain. Nobody will ever know. Seven is just as good as nine, right?”
All true if I don’t mind allowing my adversaries to kick my butt at the next race. My car is evil. It tempts me. I ignored its call and shuffled through the last two miles in the rain – emphasis on shuffle at this age.
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