Awesome, Short and Sweet, Humiliating Running Story

So, as you know, I have started to run again. At this point, I am not really going for speed, just trying to complete the distances without walking.

Well last weekend, I took a huge stride (no pun intended... wait, no... it was intended). Matt's whole family was running in the Austin Marathon Relay, which is 26.2 miles divided by five people. I ran the 10K, which is 6.2 miles. Woo hoo! Okay, but that's not really part of the story.

For running the race, I got a t-shirt. The back of this very special t-shirt says, "How does my dust taste?" Trash talk, obviously. So I guess if you wear the shirt in public, you should be going sort of fast. Which brings us to... this afternoon.

Matt and I went running on town lake this afternoon, and I was sporting the aforementioned t-shirt, forgetting what it said on the back. The agreement with me and Matt is always that I get to set the pace because I am out of shape and there is no way I could keep up with him. So, I was running in front, and Matt was pushing Henry behind me.

Five minutes into our run, Matt asks if we are going to speed up. Then he lovingly tells me that my body looks "stiff like a 40-year old." I kid you not. (In my defense, I was WARMING UP. In Matt's defense, I felt about as stiff as a 40 year old. Back to defending myself... we ended at a much faster pace, I promise.)

Well, about five minutes after Matt compared me to a stiff 40-year old, this group of high school cross-country runners was coming up behind us, about to pass us, when one of them sarcastically read the back of my shirt out loud, "How does my dust taste?" That was about two seconds before he passed me.

So needless to say, I was feeling pretty awesome about myself. No, really... I really don't care. I thought it was funny. Don't feel sorry for me. Okay? Okay, good.

The end. Much love.