I haven't run in two weeks.
I could give you all sorts of excuses: I'm getting over the marathons! It's that point in the semester where I'm not even sleeping, let alone eating! It's too cold for shorts, but I couldn't find my tights!
Truth be told, I've wanted to run, but I just haven't. And I've been okay with that.
But that ends today. Today, I'm going running. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow.
On I went, out of the wood, passing the man leading without knowing I was going to do so. Flip-flap, flip-flap, jog-trot, jog-trot, curnchslap-crunchslap, across the middle of a broad field again, rhythmically running in my greyhound effortless fashion, knowing I had won the race though it wasn't half over, won it if I wanted it, could go on for ten or fifteen or twenty miles if I had to and drop dead at the finish of it, which would be the same, in the end, as living an honest life like the governor wanted me to. -Alan Sillitoe, "Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner"