This 4th of July, while most people were prepping for BBQs and fireworks, I decided to really celebrate freedom – by running four miles. To date, this is my longest run yet so the fact that I was able to squeak out more than a couple of miles only a week or so into my running journey is reason enough to make it a national holiday. Move over, America!

Turns out, four miles feels more like 40 when it’s hot enough to cook an egg on the sidewalk, but hey, anything for patriotism, right? With every sweaty step, I kept reminding myself that this run was in honor of freedom, fireworks, and my soon-to-be demolished post-run hot dog.

Did I regret it halfway through? You bet. Did I want to take a shortcut through the bushes following the wafting smell of burgers and steaks – you bet your stars and stripes I did! But nothing says independence quite like deciding to stop running… and then guilting yourself into finishing because you already told everyone you were doing four miles.

So there you have it – four miles, a lot of sweat, and one very exhausted runner. But hey, I did it for ‘Murica. Now, where’s that lemonade and pie?

Pics or it didn’t happen.