Me: I’m not running a marathon this year.
Husband: Thank goodness.
Me: Hold me to that, please.
One Whole Day Later
Brother: Do you want to run the St. George Marathon with me next October? All the siblings are doing it.
Me: I don’t know. My book is coming out that month. Not sure if it’s a good idea.
Brother: You probably shouldn't do it then. You’d probably just stress yourself out trying to qualify for Boston, or re-injure your hamstring, or something.
Me: Screw it. I’ll be there.
And if that wasn’t enough, then I came across this picture of the last race we ran together and got all nostalgic. It was the Grizzly Half-Marathon in Choteau Montana, five years ago. He placed THIRD OVERALL, and I placed first in my own very small category of women breastfeeding at both the start and finish line.
Now I just need somebody to peer pressure/reverse psychology me out of running a marathon next October. Any volunteers? Or just come and run it with us. Trust me, it'll be fun. There might be tears, vomiting, chaffing, fainting, and/or bleeding, but it'll be fun.