It's 77 degrees out and sunny; couple that with the grueling 12 on Monday, and you get an easy three miles.
Well, mix in the cutest little puppy in the world, some dump trucks, a good deal of sweat running down my face, and a wave to the Army helicopter guy as he drove down the road (in his truck, not his Blackhawk that he regularly buzz-bombs the neighborhood with), then you get an easy three miles, or at least my version of it.
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