13.1

For Mother's Day, I gave myself the gift of health and endurance.  I ran 13.1 miles (on Saturday May 7th).
It was amazing.  My dear friend Angie trained, and ran the race with me.  She is a rock star.  I swear that woman never gets tired.  She was full of energy the entire race, which was great for me because I had someone to keep up with, and ended up finishing the race over a minute faster per mile than we trained for.  I expected to finish in about 2 hours 40 minutes (i'm slow), and instead my end time was 2:14!  It felt great. 

The course was amazing, it ran through all the cool parts of Columbus click here if you're interested.

So here's what I learned for the next race:
Don't drink a lot of water 1 hour before the race
Go potty twice
My bladder isn't as strong as it once was

lol yes, I may have had a small uncontrollable trickle during the last few miles of the race.  My only goal was to run the whole way, and stopping at one of the porta potties did not fit into reaching that goal.  
I ran my hardest, I have no regrets or if onlys. 

Goodbye my good ole trousers

This is a letter to my favorite pair of jeans.

Dear Jeans,
I purchased you in 2001, my freshman year of college.  You were hip and made my bottom look hot.  I loved slipping my legs into your 98% cotton 2% spandex blend.  You traveled with me from Virginia, to New York to Hawaii and back home to Utah.  I left you behind, tucked safely in a box, when I went to Puerto Rico.  When I came back to claim you, you were a little more snug than when I left.  I pumped and I sweat in order to fit loosely into you again.  After I got married, I gained too many happy wife pounds, and could no longer bare to tear your tiny threads as they stretched across my legs.  Again, I had to say farewell until I was able to fit into you again.  For three long years, although unseen, you did not go forgotten as I regretfully purchased larger and larger pants. 
Finally, yesterday, May 4th 2011, I pulled you out of the box you had been hiding in for years, and slipped you on.  To my astonishment, you fit!  I have been working hard, running, sweating, and declining many sweets so that I could see you again.  But, the sad truth is, I just don't like you anymore.  You are no longer fashionable, you have bleach spots, you have frayed bottoms, and are thread bare in other places. So I must bid you adieu, donate you, and never see you again.  I hope that the next person to wear you has many happy times in you.

Lovingly,
Sabrina