So I have to run a half marathon tomorrow morning.
Well, about as awesome as running 13.1 miles can be at 8 a.m. when I'm cold, probably tired and have a belly ache from last night's spaghetti. But whatever. It's all in good fun. And, of course, by "good fun" I mean "I'll probably die."
The girls and I headed downtown this afternoon to get our t-shirts, bib numbers and goody bags. And first of all, it is nice out. Super nice out. Like, Wednesday-it-was-blizzarding-and-today-it-is-50-degrees nice out. And tomorrow? Shall be just as nice.
And Mandy? Is about pooping her pants because she's so nervous to run the 5K. I think she's funny. She thinks she's going to die. I'm sure we'll laugh about it later. Or, we're already laughing about it now, but it'll probably be more funny on Monday.
So wish us all luck in the morning. We'll be running. You'll be sleeping. It's cool.
You lazy bastards.