I heard a police whistle this morning and looked out onto the street to see the police cordoning off the road for the half marathon. It made me want to crawl in a hole and go down there and register both at the same time. My whole body still aches and my throat is so swollen I can't swallow my own spit, but my mind and my gut are down there in the park, stretching and warming up for that race.
It starts RIGHT in front of my building, y'all. On my damn doorstep. And I'm going to have to watch it from my balcony. From now on when I do a race and I look up and see people on balconies, I'm going to wonder how many of them wanted to do that race but were too sick to do it.
The iron is that we can't even LEAVE because the roads will all be blocked on all sides of our building.
Not that I want to leave... I still want to watch it. As painful as it is...
Sam says, "Don't worry, you'll do it next year... IF you're not pregnant." But we were hoping to be... Five months by then. Oh well, at least there's Paris in April, huh?
The one light of hope is that Sam said, "We are GOING to print your book out today."
Ryan's going to a b-day party. We'll see if it gets done today or if other things are going to steal me away.
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