Dear readers(?),
I'm sorry I have been absent for so long. Luckily, no one reads this blog, so, as my apologies usually go, this one is half-hearted at best. Anyway, for your information, I was building suspense only and not being lazy as you might have suspected. Quite unjustly I might add. I was doing charity work all winter and spring, as far as you know. Sorry to shame you like that, but you have only yourself to blame. You should be more trusting.
As I lured you here only through the sorcery of Pinterest, I will get on with reporting the results of the half-marathon and let us both get on with the task of wasting our lives.
I'm sorry I have been absent for so long. Luckily, no one reads this blog, so, as my apologies usually go, this one is half-hearted at best. Anyway, for your information, I was building suspense only and not being lazy as you might have suspected. Quite unjustly I might add. I was doing charity work all winter and spring, as far as you know. Sorry to shame you like that, but you have only yourself to blame. You should be more trusting.
As I lured you here only through the sorcery of Pinterest, I will get on with reporting the results of the half-marathon and let us both get on with the task of wasting our lives.
On one hand, I seemed to have physically survived the half-marathon. Other the other hand, it may be the case that I will, in fact, not be receiving any calls from the National Olympic Committee's Subcommittee on Half-Marathons. I blame the entire episode on the aforementioned cousin who lured me into a false sense of almost confidence by running alongside me, stride for stride, at the start of the race only to heartlessly cast me aside when my lungs collapsed at Mile 3 of 13.
However, I evidently did reach the finish line eventually, which I cleverly deduced at the point that the sea of people surrounding me started to force bananas and granola bars down my throat. So, in light of this tepid achievement, I have a few pro-tips on just how one could share in this quite paralleled mediocrity:
1) Catapult self from the starting line using jerky motions to avoid sideswiping the riffraff that seemed to have wandered onto YOUR course.
2) Ignore running partner's admonition to "pace yourself" while you pretend to be Jackie Joyner-Kersee darting between strollers and elderly walkers.
3) Continue heart-straining pace when, minutes later, your body begins to show signs of vital organ shutdown.
4) Smile and nod head in response to running partner's attempt to engage in conversation, while sound of rushing water in ears drowns out all outside sound.
5) Shake fist above head with face tilted down in mock determination as eyesight starts to fade.
6) Wave running partner on at fake water stop as you succumb to stabbing pains in chest, back, feet, shoulders, head, elbows, etc.
7) Endure disapproving looks and ironic cheering from street-side voyeurs while you spend the rest of course walking and texting friends about brunch plans.
Good luck and let me know your success stories from following my 7-step plan to victory.
