I can’t guarantee that this is going to be a fabulously witty entry. I know how some of you rely on that from me… I am absolutely done. I made a deal with Justin earlier tonight that I would clean the house before I went to bed if he would do the laundry tomorrow. The only thing I have done is made a bigger mess. But, in my defense, I have excellent reason to be tired.

Justin and I participated in the Ollie Road Race in South Boston this morning. Justin signed up to do the five-mile run, and I signed up to do the two-mile walk. I opted for the shorter distance because I knew I could be successful at it. There’s nothing like getting partway into a run and discovering that you suck. Case in point: the Spartan Race. I didn’t want that again. Plus, I know I can knock out two miles pretty fast (pretty fast for me).

Now, from the start, this race wasn’t too well organized. We had to walk about a half mile from the T station to the starting line, which is where we would have assumed registration was. Nope. It was at the Bank of America Pavilion, another half mile down the road. This means we also had to walk another half mile back to the start after registering… So I got off to a pretty good start, staying caught up with the rest of the runners. When I hit the mile mark, I started wondering where the turn around point was. No one in a “Race Crew” shirt had any idea. Are you kidding me? No one happened to mention, “Oh, when someone asks, THIS is the turn-around”? And this was the SEVENTIETH YEAR this race has been run. I can’t believe this question has never come up before.

With no choice but to continue, I ran on to the two mile marker. Nope. No pretend finish line there. All of a sudden, there was a white van slowly driving by me. I looked over, and it was a very nice guy from the race offering me water. When I asked him about the turn-around, he looked surprised. Mhmm… It was over half a mile back the other way. So, I had two choices. I could keep going and do the full five miles, which is probably what I should have done. Instead, I turned around and headed back. I knew I had a half mile before I caught up with the course on the way back to the finish line, so I walked most of that. But, once I caught up with the other runners, I kicked it back into gear. And let me just tell you that I ran 3.75 miles in 45 minutes! I was so proud of myself!

Now, in retrospect, I should have just kept going and done the whole race. I really wussed out on this one. Especially because it turns out that the races was only 4.58 miles, and not the full five. But, who cares? I ran further than I have ever run in my life, and I did it faster than I have ever done. This gives me hope for tomorrow’s 5K. I’m aiming to do it in under 40 minutes, and I really think I can. Who would have guessed?

So, now that you can see why I am so done, I am going to go to bed. After all, this mess will still be here in the morning. As fabulous of a husband as Justin is, I can trust that the mess will still be here tomorrow.


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