In A Christmas Carol, the Muppet version, during the last scene, Gonzo/Mr. Dickens is holding the reveal. Did Tiny Tim make it? Or did he have a date with death? Gonzo lets us know, by stating: “And Tiny Tim, who did NOT die…” It’s probably one of the funniest Muppet moments, and certainly one of my favorite movie moments. It was even funnier this year when we watched it with a large group of my friends and Gonzo delivered his perfect line to a perfect crowd: everyone erupted into laughter, and my friend Scott and I still get the giggles (or whatever the giggle equivalent is for men) when one of us mentions it.

Anyways, my point is, on Friday, I ran 3.1 miles. It was on the treadmill. It was at zero incline. Flat surface. I had to stop twice to loosen my shoes and stretch my calves, for one minute each. I wanted to quit at mile 2. I wanted to quit at mile 2.5. I wanted to quit every second of the last half mile. But I prevailed because I had to. So I did the 3.1 miles. I was supposed to do 3 miles, but you know, I figured I should probably know whether or not I could actually go 3.1 miles just in case maybe that last .1 mile is really what was going to push me over the edge.

It took me 39:24. That’s an average of 13 minutes and 8 seconds. Slower than my best mile (of 11:35) but faster than you know, walking. Less than my original (arbitrary) goal of 45 minutes. It’s not fast. It’s not fancy. But I did NOT die.

The three miles were a little faster than the 13 minutes and 13 seconds it took me on Wednesday to run two miles. And my two miles today were a little faster, at 25:45, which was 12 minutes and 52.5 second average. These two miles were 58 seconds slower than my fastest two miles. Which is a smidge discouraging, but it’s better than nothing. Am I right? (Let’s hope I’m right.)

Jeff and I went to Michael’s today to get stuff to make Nikki and I shirts for the run. So at the very least, I’ll be well dressed. Less than a week left. Here goes nothing.