Break a Leg, Me

I don't know a whole lot about jogging/running. When I train, I mostly pretend something big and scary is chasing me. I wear basic sneakers, sweat pants, a cotton shirt (if it's not too cold I wear a wicking shirt), and a light-weight jacket. On a highly motivated day, I clip up my hair. So it's a little weird to be thinking that tomorrow is my first timed 3.5 mile event.

I wouldn't call it a race exactly, because I won't be eligible for awards. (Even if I were eligible, the only award I could hope to receive is Good Effort or Showed Up On Time) And I'll be walking just as much as I'm jogging, but heck, I'm signed up. I've got a number and some sort of timer and it's on.

I even decided to eat pasta tonight in my lame ass attempt at carb-loading. Water is boiling on the stove now in anticipation. Or at least it will eventually. Stupid long time boiling water.

So please, cross your fingers for me or knock on wood. Mostly I just don't want to die out there. I will be totally and completely happy if I meet that goal.

Happy Ides of March!