I went with Monroe, who we'll call "Roe" for ease of typing. Puppy came along as well. The first mile was spent becoming one with the frigid air, and finding reasons to believe that running further would be a good idea. For the record, running further is never a good idea. The problem with running past when you want to stop is that you never know when to quit. You have already told your body to F@#K off, so you won't listen to it again. If you've already told your body what for, your brain is next. You don't need your brain when you run anyway, if anything the brain gets in the way as much as the body, if not more. The only thing that made me quit tonight was Roe and his many bathroom breaks. At one point, Roe darted just off the road, and let loose of the most horrible smelling solid matter ever known to mankind. The smell of rotting carcass in the desert sun, topped with a dumpster from behind a Chinese restaurant who's pick up date has been skipped over the last two weeks, filled the neighborhood. There was a lot of stop and go, as Roe had his moments of panic when he would release a foul stench from his rear that would surprise even his self, and cause a shut down of movement. As I was running behind Roe, the stench would strike me in the face. I could almost see the green fog drift from ground level as it forms a fist the likes of Brock Lesnar, striking me in right square in the nose. Enough of Roe's Jedi Death Farts.
The remainder of the run was good. I kept a solid pace all the way through, and completed 5. which was 5 more than I intended to complete today. This makes 17 so far this week.