I ran this morning for the first time in about 6 weeks -- the end of my last botched attempt to re-establish a morning routine that does not involve hitting the snooze button 7 times before actually considering getting out of my bed.

When I started running regularly a little over two years ago, it didn't take me long to realize early morning was the best time for me: the Texas heat hasn't had time to reach it's full boil before 7:00 a.m., so even in the summer months it's pretty bearable if you can get out the door before the sun comes up. And there is something soothing about sidewalks in the dark, faintly glowing in the halo of the street lamps.

And it's quiet. Living in the middle of the city doesn't afford much of this underrated commodity, so you appreciate when you can find an hour or so free from the noise of traffic and planes and light rails and buses. My new neighborhood has a creek that runs through the middle of it, and at 6:00 a.m., you can actually hear the water rushing under the sidewalk as you run across the overpass. There's something inherently good about the sound of a burbling stream, no matter how small and urbanized it has become.

So this morning was a good run, even with the kinks my body needed to work out after so many weeks of a sedentary lifestyle. It was relaxing, even meditative. Until the end.

As I stepped through my back door into my quiet kitchen, shrugging away the disappointment of the slow time the handsome-voiced Nike+ man had just whispered in my ear, I was greeted by a falsely enthusiastic "Congratulations!" from none other than Mr. Lance Armstrong.

Dear Nike+ programmers,

I know that Lance is a cycling phenom, but his voice conjures images of his scrawny-assed, pointy-headed, yellow-jerseyed body which just do not appeal to me as I am trying to catch my breath after I've trudged through my inaugural 2 miles this morning. Further, Lance was congratulating me on my "longest run yet," which is funny since I ran the exact same route I ran for over a month this summer. Perhaps the streets are longer before sunrise, but more likely that means my sensor either needs recalibration or needs to be replaced, since your engineers designed it in such a way that I have to spend $20 to replace it every year instead of $3 to replace the battery, thus placing undo strain on our environment as well as my meager income.

These are not the calming thoughts I wanted to take with me into my morning shower, Nike Peeps. Couldn't you just have Lance send me an email or something to encourage me when I really need it, after my beloved endorphins have worn off? I'm just sayin'.

Sincerely,
Nike + user: daisiesforyou

P.S. Is Tiger Woods still in the "Encouragement Line-up" as well? Because while it was always kind of funny to me that he was the voice for my "fastest time yet," because golfers are known for their speed and all, I think it would be even more amusing now that we all know he couldn't even outrun his golf club-wielding wife, who chased down his Escalade...on foot.

Again, just a thought.