The Smell of Anticipation and Fear

Tonight, the smell of anticipation and fear fill the air. That and the lasagna I have cooking. The 10-miler is this weekend and I'm not ashamed to say that I am a bit scared. I've been training, but I've always ducked out of the runs that were longer than 10 miles for some reason or another.

I'm actually a rogue walker. That means I didn't pay an entry fee and don't intend to, so neener. I would actually duck out of this weekend, but as I have said before, my friends are relentless and won't let me rest. I've made all my excuses, and they are not having it. Bitches. Yeah, I said it. Relentless bitches.

I'll be accompanied by Harris Bueller who is recently recovering from slicing his toenail off with a piano. I told him you don't play it that way, but no one ever listens to the Polipino.

Tonight, the husband and I will be braving the 35 degree weather to get in three miles together. He hasn't really been training and I'm a little worried that he is going to have trouble with the Mini Marathon. He walks constantly for his job, which may be what ends of saving him.