We Never Regret the Run

When I went to bed last night, I had every intention of getting up this morning for a short shakeout run.  When my alarm went off this morning, bright and early, I rethought those intentions...the bed was just feeling too darn good, and I had just run 20 miles yesterday (if you want to skip all the words after the "..." part of the sentence and simply insert "excuses to follow", that is both factual and fine by me).  Anywho, I rolled back over, fully intending to revisit the Land of Nod, but the dogs weren't having it; once they know you're awake, it's all downhill from there-pointy snouts were all sorts of in my face, literally ("hey guy, I'm going to keep using your eye sockets as a pin-cushion until you let me outside to do my business, then put some food in my bowl; you're awfully swell for understanding").  So when I stepped outside and felt the cool, comfortable weather...well, there was no turning back.  I hadn't left myself much time to log miles, but a quick jaunt was certainly better than none; as much as I've been boo-hooing the hot temps this summer served up, it would have seemed mighty hypocritical of me had I not taken advantage of a nice, cool morning.  After all, "I really regret that run"...said no one, ever.