We had fun the other day, didn't we? Granted, it wasn't my best showing, but hey-that's probably what you get when you don't train for a 10k, and instead decide to run the day before it happens. Also known as, "overestimating your athletic capabilities."
I was rash, and decided earlier in the week that I wanted to
For the record, you knew me the other day as Melissa.
Again, only hypothetically.
You know what I love about you, Peachtree? The fact that for SIX SOLID MILES I had to bob and weave my way through the other 60,000 crazy people that thought it would be a good idea to NOT sleep in and instead run for an hour in the Georgia heat. Delightful.
I also really enjoyed how, about mile 4, I started to feel minor symptoms of what was probably a heat stroke coming on, which sent me desperately (and vainly) in search of some Gatorade. Let me just tell you, I seriously would've paid $100 for a bottle of Gatorade, or just ANY primary colored liquid masquerading as a sports drink, at that point.
On the other hand, the beer that got sprayed in my face by some
But, we did it, didn't we? And by "we," I actually mean "me," because clearly you did nothing except make me almost die out there, while having only some Justin Bieber to get me through.
Sherri "Why Did I Do This Again?" Dickens
I mean, Melissa.