I believe in the magic of New Year’s Eve.
I believe New Year’s Eve should be spent with friends who are like family and with family members who are also friends.
I believe in making silent wishes during the final countdown.
I believe in kissing at midnight.
I believe in champagne toasts even though I don’t really like champagne.
I woke up Monday morning determined to get in a 2-mile run before the end of the day. Rainy days and a busy schedule had kept me from pounding the pavement for a few days and I’m trying to get back into the groove of running so I can register for a few big races next year.
The elements were against me. Thanks to the end of Daylight Savings Time I knew it’d be pitch black before 6 p.m. and because of a little run-in a sports car had with my rear end back in 2008, I terrified of running at night. But I left work on time (I’m a teacher and can technically leave at 3:06 p.m. but rarely ever do) and made it home and changed into my running gear before 4 p.m.
But there was another problem. Those same clouds that had been raining on my parade for the past few days were threatening to do so again. I considered putting on one of my favorite fitness DVDs and giving up on my run but something inside rebelled against that idea.
So I headed out the door.