Compulsion, obsession, addiction.

You say that like it's a bad thing.

Y'all, I have a serious thing for running. It's bad, bad, bad...or good, good, good, depending upon how you look at such things.

This week at the gym, I've started integrating weights into my workout week. Just twice a week, for about 30-45 minutes. No big, right?

Ugh. I don't want to lift weights. I want to run!

Yesterday, I ran 5.5 miles at lunchtime. I went back to the gym in the evening while Kate was in dance class, to do a Group Core class. I got there a little early and while I stretched, I kept thinking, "I could ditch this class and just go out and run. I could do four miles and still be done in time to pick up Miss K."

I didn't, though.

Intellectually, I know I need to do some strength training. I know the Group Core class is good for me.

But my heart wants to be running. Treadmill, road, trail, doesn't matter. Just running.

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Speaking of the trail, we have been blessed with some pretty damn good weather (except for the rain last night and today), so Sunday I hit the park for 10 miles.

I love running the trails. There's always something to see, whether it be people, birds, or flowers. There are a few "hills," so I get something different than my everyday flat pavement.

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One of my goals this year is to run 2,000 miles. I missed it in 2012 by FORTY-EIGHT miles. Ugh. I am peeved about that number because I actually missed very few days running, but there were several days when I could have run 8 or 10 or 12, and I only did 4 or 6. Not going to make that mistake this year.

Anyway, in order to make my goal, I have to run 167 miles a month.

So, for January?

185.