Day 1823

Day 1823. Oh my God, it was muggy and disgusting out there this morning! You know when you have that thick, sticky sweat that just kind of fastens itself to your skin. It’s like someone opened up a fresh can of full gloss perspiration, lathered it all over your body, then left it there to sit. Occasionally you take your thumb and forefinger, pinch the bottom of your microfiber shirt, pull it up to your face, and wipe… only to be coated again in five seconds.

I ran to the White House. Initially I had planned to do the Lincoln, but didn’t hit the pavement quite early enough. We’ll get there soon. I texted my old jogging counterpart, P Smooth, about a possible long early Saturday jaunt. He responded. He responded with a challenge, in straightforward terms.

“You want to do 18 with me?”

Oh brother. Here we go.

Streak on.

3.6 miles down

5 dogs