8 And Counting

In my quest to outlast my stupid injury-prone body I've decided to take a no holds barred (read: more conservative than Mitt Romney's views on anything) approach. This consists of running (read: jogging, barely) every single friggin' day until one of two things happen:

1. I magically heal and stop getting injured, or...
2. I self-destruct like the drummers from Spinal Tap.

There will be nothing left except a green globule somewhere on a sidewalk that passers-by will mistake for gum. More of a stain, really...

So, this marks the first time I've EVER run (read: slog) for eight days in a row. Coincidentally, 8 is my favorite number. I'm afraid of 9... (I wonder how many stairs I fell down a week ago? I bet it was 9! Tomorrow may be judgement day.)