At least that’s what I called myself.

Wednesday Night I got a call from Christian saying “Hey, why don’t we run Thursday at lunch instead of at the crack of dawn?”

“Sure, fine, whatever” I say. It was snowing, and Thursday Morning was supposed to be a bear.

So I get to work on Thursday, and Christian says “Hey, why don’t we go later this afternoon.” With which I was cool, ’cause I was wrapped up in meetings.

So the end of the day rolls around, and I go park myself by Christian’s desk until he is ready to go. Then the wuss factor rolls in: We head to the base gym and jump on the gerbil wheels.

Yep, Thursday’s run was on a treadmill. I feel dirty. But I did it.

3.4 miles, 30 minutes. Still on plan.