As I go briefly to bed, I ponder the future of my running career. The shin splints tripped my mojo for a bit, but ice, massage, and chiropractic laser are bringing me back. There was a moment when I wavered, figured no one would blame me if I just let this one go. Besides, a 12 mile run is nothing to sneeze at. Then I thought:
Failure can kiss my ass.
Wait, I take that back.
Failure can kiss my black ass.
The Joggernaut is not going out like that.
See you on the tarmac. I'm taking myself out for a little spin tomorrow morning. Then, we're getting back on track.
Check me.
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