at least I know that I’ll make it 0.61538 of the way through my marathon

Oh my goodness, I want a waffle so much right now. Or some peanut butter cookies. Or maybe chocolate chip pancakes. I was bad last week. Terrible, actually. I pretty much just ate like I was on vacation (we all know calories consumed on vacation don’t count), and I had alcohol TWICE. And I decided that it was totally okay to eat whatever I wanted all weekend too because I ran 16 miles on Saturday. So I NEEDED to eat the carbs.

See how I slipped my mileage in there like it was no big deal? Actually, 16 miles is one mile further than I have ever run before. Ever. And I didn’t even feel like I was going to die at the end of it, which was kind of a nice change from my usual long runs.

Lizzy had a triathlon last weekend, and Kate is in Maine, and I was going to be really grumpy having to run for almost three hours by myself, but then Josh volunteered to go with me instead. I was surprised, since this meant that he had to run at a glacially slow pace. But it may have helped that I bribed him with caffeinated chocolate Gu. I suspect that Josh is a caffeine addict, because I’m pretty sure he started drooling when I told him that caffeinated Gu was a real thing. Honestly though, I think I might be turning into a caffeine addict too. ‘If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em,’ right? Or just start your own party, I guess. But you might need some extra energy for all that party planning, so you’d better have some more caffeine.

I think I might have to buy one of those made-for-running fanny pack things that I’ve always thought looked so dumb on other people, so I can wear it in the marathon. Mostly because I want to bring my caffeine with me, but also because I refuse to go through the hassle of checking a bag and don’t have anybody coming to watch. (Not that I blame them; I can’t think of anything more boring than watching a marathon.) And there is a limit to the amount of things you can stuff into a sports bra without risking some serious chafing. I know this because I have discovered the limit during a previous experience: driver’s license, car key, cell phone, MP3 player, fruit snacks, and chapstick. No, I do not have humongous boobs. Yes, I’m sure I looked a bit lumpy on that particular occasion.

Josh has pockets in his running shorts. Why don’t they put pockets in ladies’ shorts too? This doesn’t seem fair.

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