Resting today. Getting ready for the big first race of my new running life this Sunday. I'm definitely more concerned about the expected human mass than I am about the actual run.
I think I might write a poem:
It's almost Bloomsday,
a road race - not dirt,
but I'll still run hard,
unless the other fifty thousand people are just way too much and I go find a little cocooning area near the parking garage way way way over there where no one will be able to see me and I can live the rest of my life in peace and especially not have to worry about getting into a fist fight with Ms. Spokane's great-aunt Loni for dibs on the last "I just ran 7.46 miles for a damn Bloomsday shirt" t-shirt.
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