There used to be a time when a slow run of 4.5km was not worth washing a whole set of sweaty clothes. Now, on a hot and unmotivating 10am run (because I conveniently forgot to set the alarm), I repeat to myself with each footfall: "Something is better than nothing," in between the strains of Mambo Number Five from yesterday's kickboxing class.
"Something is better than nothing."
"A little bit of Erica by my side..."
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A friend once said, after her times dropped off comsiderably in a set of intervals, "A slow set is better than no set."
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