I come in and my visiting mum is biting her lip while I stretch. I throw her a look, hoping to induce sympathy and understanding as I continue. Worse, she sniggers and breaks into a guffaw. There then follows a rudimentary what/why discussion as I struggle to defend my actions. She tells me this is what one of her neighbours does, describing and illustrating his routine with the same kind of tone my colleague Mike 'all fluorescent Lycra doing posy stretching 'n' shit' once used. 
'At least you don't do it outside like he does' she concludes, revealing this is a ripe source of neighbourhood entertainment. I only came in to be sociable. Usually I too would be outside. Am I my mums neighbour? If there's one thing I've learnt over 2013, it's the value of a stretch. A prescribed and methodical stretch. A stretch held for a full minute, repeated x3 during a stretchy session that can last 30 mins or so. A stretch that hurts to hold and makes you sweat as much as the run. 
A stretch against a wall taken with diligence and commitment to prevent it becoming a 'lean'. A stretch while I'm still covered in shit and smell worse. I don't usually get let in the house unless I fully undress on the doorstep. So yes, I too stretch outside. I don't mind keeping my mum amused. It's my duty, so I embellish. But I've tried not stretching also, meaning mostly I really can't be arsed. I've come straight in after a run, out of the cold and rain.
Taken a hot coffee and a hotter shower, followed by the sofa and a glass of Red. But then I can't get out of the sofa. Worse, I have to pay Wayne to repeat what he told me last time, show me the same routines for repair, explain why he's grounding me for 6 weeks again while my mates are out in Gods playground. Not stretching makes me more of a fool than the fool I look when I do. 2013 has delivered. A full set of PB's. There are numbers to pour over, should I choose.
I continue to weigh myself daily and log my miles weekly. All these numbers reveal the naked truth. I run because I like running. It needs no more complication than that. 2013 has been a rich and fulfilling year of running around. As I write this, I reflect on my reaction to an email that arrived yesterday detailing our clubs 2014 Summer Series calendar and new division listings. All are now in my diary, some even entered already. No time for looking back! Happy New Year.