Dear February,
You kicked my butt, you short month you. Are you really that short? That's what they say. However, despite the Ground Hog day predictions, you made me desire hibernation more than any other month yet. Sneaky. Devious. Cold. Warm. Cold. I can't keep up with you. You're like Charlie Sheen on a minute by minute basis. Alas, you beat me and I did not achieve my goal. There's always March, my trust Irish celebrating friend.
Sincerely,
Goal: 70 Miles
Actually ran: 57.8 miles
March Goal: 70 miles. I will beat you. And even exceed you.
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