My streak began exactly 16 years ago. August 12, 2002.
We were in Flagstaff, a respite from the relentless Phoenix heat. I felt good. In fact, I felt absolutely perfect. It went by quickly. The first day of the streak is always the easiest.
We came back to Phoenix, and the streak continued. Hot days, monsoon days, even kids with chicken pox.
We moved to Texas. The streak continued.
We moved back to Phoenix. And so did the streak.
The key? I think it’s about finding the one thing you absolutely love. Dr. Sheehan said it must be play. If you’re not playing, find something else.
16 years. 5,840 days. There have been many, many glorious ones, and a few days I just wanted to quit. Days I didn’t want to get out of bed, and days I hoped would never end. But that’s the thing about a streak. You do what you must to keep it going. And if you’re doing it right, you love every minute.
Mo was always reluctant to get married. She was skeptical about things lasting. But this one has. I’m so lucky that 16 years ago today she stood on the steps of a little courthouse and said I Do. Or possibly adieu. She’s a jokester and I speak limited French. Here’s to another 16 years or so.
And yeah, I ran today. 4 miles slow. HR was happier. 16 miles for the week, right on schedule for oblivion. But I take off two days a week. One streak is enough …