I went out for dinner then went on a run.
Let me rephrase that. I walked into town for dinner then ran “out of my way” home.
Actually, let me give that one more try. I carried my shoes as I walked barefoot into town, had dinner then took my shoes off after exiting the restaurant and carried them while I ran barefoot out of my way home for as long as I could hold a smile. In hindsight, I would have run longer if I hadn’t had the Nachos.
A big OK sign sent out to the guy who yelled, “Those are supposed to go on your feet!”
Note the rough aging pavement just perfect for improving asphalt tolerance.
It’s been a week since I ran. Distance only made my heart grow fonder and my demeanor more obsessive.
Go run smiley, kids.
Guess where I sat for dinner?