This came in the mail today:
Say it with me, Keanu.
I mean really, holy shit. This is happening. I'm really going to be running the Boston Marathon in 5 months and 4 days. That's sobering, and a little terrifying, and exciting, and a thousand other things.
Anyway. This morning, I had a "first-timers" meeting at DFCI. Got to know some of my fellow runners, in a group activity (we called our group "The Virgins" because none of us have ever run a marathon before). That was pretty fun. Got some sage advice from the staff, also cool. Mingled a little, chatted with various folks. All in all, a good time.
Then I went to work, where I got stuck doing carriage duty in the parking lot, in this horrible weather. Five miserable hours lugging 74 pound carts around in groups of five to ten. Got home, did a core workout, showered, then cut the bottom of my foot on either a staple or a small nail. I don't know which. Arg.
At least tomorrow is supposed to be nice, so I should be able to get a run in. Probably tomorrow night, after the Pats kick the Colts' ass. That is, of course, assuming that my shift at work is relatively calm.
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