I ran. Not every step, but I ran. About a mile into the run, I was attacked by a killer side stitch. I held it off until about mile 2.9, but then I just could not hold it off any longer. I had to walk. I walked about a tenth of a mile and was able to run the rest, and you know what? I’m happy. Would I have loved to have run that tenth of a mile too? Yes, of course. But the truth of the matter is that I couldn’t. I wasn’t breathing, and it’s hard to run when you can’t breathe. I am of course second guessing myself now, knowing it was only a tenth of a mile, but I have to hang on to what I know is the truth. I ran every step I could. With that, I can be happy.