From the Athlete Era
i had to stop treating a missed run like a verdict
I was standing in the kitchen at 5:12 a.m. with one shoe on when I heard my daughter call for me. The run was supposed to be eight miles. By the time the house settled, I had thirty-two minutes. I almost did nothing because I couldn't do all of it.
That pause told me more than the workout did. I'd been treating every changed plan like evidence that this season of my life wasn't built for big goals. I don't believe that anymore. I ran the thirty-two minutes.

