the scene last nite was not pretty. my 3 week old bangs were plastered to my forehead, my left shin was throbbing, i had a hobble run and i had to pee. it’s not a cute picture. i was at mile 2.5, i think, and there was a hill that i had to get past to complete the damn run. i turned to $5wordGuy* and go: “we’re sprinting up that bitch, and then we can walk the rest of the way. THEN! let’s have ice cream for dinner.”
at the foot of the hill, i take a deep breath and go balls to the wall running, i’m huffing & puffing. any passerby would see a stumpy legged asian girl madly
dashing limping up a hill, five seconds from dry heaving. then from the corner of my left eye i see a flash of blond hair. it’s my boyfriend, long limbed, slender and GAZELLE RUNNING beside me… then he daintily gracefully very un manly gentlemanly passes me. he looked like this:
i watch him for a split second. stop. then proceed to fold my body into a semi-standing fetal position and guffaw at his jackassness.
my race is on sunday. my pace can only be described as snail-like.