Hook, Line and Sinker

This morning I finally admitted to myself that I'm hooked on running. I started on Thanksgiving Day 2006, after I put the turkey in the oven. Since then, I've been running thrice a week, every week, except for one week in January when I had an awful cold.

Today, I didn't have enough time for a run at midday at work, which usually happens on Fridays. I wouldn't have time to run in the evening. Let's see, what's left? It's sometime between 6 and 6:45 am or not at all.

Believe me, nothing can get me willingly out of bed at 6 am other than an early morning flight. And yet, there I was, lacing up my shoes at 6:10 am, heading out the door.

Even though every running book I've read says not to run with headphones on, I can't resist the lure of my ipod shuffle. I'm off to the sound of Rush.

The voices in my head:

Minutes 1-5: "Why am I out here? I should be in my nice warm bed. There's nobody out here except the garbage trucks."
6-10: "It's actually kind of nice. On the cool side, but nice."
11-15: "Hey! Another runner! Hello there, other crazy person. I feel like we have some bond."
16-20:"This is harder than running at noon! I miss my running pals!"
20-25:"Look at the time! Got to get back home before DH's carpool comes to pick him up!"
26:"Made it. Now, on with the rest of my day."

Will I be getting up at 6 am to run again? I hope not, but it's good to know that I can.