You know how when you're five years old and you steal a handful of M & Ms from the candy jar, and then when confronted, you point at your younger sibling and sob, "She told me to!" ?
That was me Thursday.
I got home from work and decided to take a run outside.
She told me to!
But when my triathlete friend suggested I start running outside in preparation for my Tough Cookie duathalon in 23 days, I don't think she meant to run outside in 33-degree coldness with a sore throat, headache and low grade fever.
I really think this decision has to go down as one of Holly's 100 worst.
I ended up walking more than I ran, didn't even make it a mile, spit repeatedly, and cursed out loud.
Today might be a good day to run outside. It's 70-something, the sun is shining and my fever is gone.
But what's the fun in that?
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