Insert Picture of Garmin here (see why there is no picture below).
Dear Doctor, thank you for giving me the all clear to run. Those words signaled bells ringing in my ears, and I spent the rest of the day in a splendid stupor. Dear run, you were so horribly awesome. I ran a total of 2.75 miles, but there was plenty of walking in there, and the pace was not pretty. That's okay. Baby steps are what I'm taking. Dear Garmin, thanks for dying at .37 miles. That was pretty awesome. I'm fairly certain the run would have been better had I known my pace the whole time. I looked down at first and was running 9 minutes miles. Uhhhh. After 6 weeks off in 90* heat, my legs were playing a trick on me. But don't worry! You got me good. When I could barely run at all at the end I sure appreciated your dead signal. Dear organized closet, I love you more every morning when I stumble out of bed and am able to put together and cute, comfy, and relatively stylish outfit in less time than it takes to make a cup of coffee. I will definitely be keeping you up.
Dear USF, thanks for losing after we stayed late at the game. That was awesome. Dear weekend, I'm ready for you. Big plans are in store. They include the couch, the tv, Tim, and football. It's going to be magical. There'll be a run in there somewhere, and I just hope it's prettier than Thursday. Dear Arkansas, be sure to play just as well for the Alabama game as you did for Louisiana-Monroe. That will make us all happy. Roll tide!