A mile and a third today, and then I got disgusted and had to stop. Not depressed, not unhappy, nothing like that, just looked at myself and looked at the treadmill, and said, “That’s enough for today.” There’s only so much you can do, and a man’s got to know his limitations.
Getting off early tomorrow, don’t you know, and should be able to knock out a couple of miles. Then I have to get up early (i.e., before noon) on Saturday (God help me) and knock out a few more. Then flying out to Texas on Saturday evening, probably not walking then — but coming back Thursday afternoon, and I can walk on Friday and Saturday, probably on Sunday, too. Next Sunday is effectively the last day I can walk, as my gym is closed on New Year’s Eve.
Eighty-seven miles down, thirteen miles to go.