So in the midst of my hate/panic spiral over the possible cancellation of the Madison Marathon this weekend due to the heat (SERIOUSLY I WILL FREAK OUT), I have decided to write a post that I’ve been putting off for a long time because, well, it weirds me out.  Since the early days of this blog, numerous readers have suggested I get some blog merch printed up that people can buy. I’ve been trying to avoid this for as long as possible for fear that everyone’s secretly just messing with me and they don’t really want a t-shirt with a T-Rex on it, but it’s time to bite the bullet. As more people have started reading, the requests have been coming faster, so now I guess I have to give the people what they allegedly want.

This post is my research phase. I am a compulsive researcher. I do not buy anything without reading every possible review and doing excessive comparison shopping, getting the best price, etc. T-Rex Dad taught me this. Ergo, I have to do consumer research to see what it is you all want. I am currently in the process of having a new mascot designed. Yes, I actually have paid someone money to create the thing.  I know, the pink-T-Rex I made in Paint is exquisite, but it turns out the 72 dpi resolution isn’t going to cut it when it comes to getting it printed on stuff. So here’s one last look at this beautiful creature before it is permanently retired.

I’m going to miss it only taking 0.2 seconds to upload because the file size is so small.

While I don’t have the final mascot yet, I do want to get a feel for what everyone might be interested in where actual merchandise is concerned. So please take 5 seconds and take these few polls. Even if you vote “no” on the first one, please share your opinions about what items you think would be good. Because you’re going to change your mind when you see how awesome this stuff is and I want to make sure you have the options you want. You LIKE my merchandise. YOU LIKE IT. And don’t vote yes just because you don’t want to hurt my feelings. T-Rexs have no feelings.

Now that we’ve gotten that awkward question out of the way, please humor me by answering a few more.

Thank you for all your hard work! And now to reward you, here is a giant picture of my face on a pint glass, aka your future.

Don’t worry, I will only put my face on stuff for special requests. The rest of you will get the mascot.

When I get the final mascot design, I will obviously share it with all of you. Unless none of you want to buy my shirt. In which case I will only share it with AJ because he is required to give a shit about my life. Thanks again, y’all!

I’m terrified of cities. Something about the tallness of the buildings makes me feel claustrophobic. Then there’s all the dirt. And the taxis. And the birds. And the muggers. And the homeless people who might pee on me for no reason other than because they can. I have spent the better part of my adult life trying to avoid large cities unless I am running through them, since running a marathon with a crowd of other people means my chances of being attacked are significantly reduced. However, when I mentioned the idea of roadtripping to the Delaware Marathon with AJ, he immediately responded with “great, we can go to New York City and Tom will show us around!” Stupendous.

So the plan was hatched. I would run the marathon in the morning and we would drive up to New Jersey, where AJ was born and where Tom still lives, and then catch a train into the city, walk around for a bit, and have dinner. Fortunately, I felt decent enough after the race. A little tired, naturally, but mostly hungry and weak, so we stopped at the greatest of all food emporiums – Wawa. AJ had never been to one, so since he was introducing me to NYC, I figured I would introduce him to the wonders of Wawa, where they make your sub and pretty much any other type of food you can imagine by hand with the quality of Subway a fine restaurant…all with the convenience of a gas station. As you can see, Wawa is equal to NYC in importance.

Victorious with my sub and Sprite. AJ LOVES taking awkward pictures of me in public places.

We met Tom at the hospital where he works so we could park to catch the train. There was a train station right across the street…but it was obviously not for the train we needed to be on. That train was more like a mile away, but what’s one more mile really? We eventually got on and of course, there was nowhere to sit, so my marathon legs got to stand the whole ride in. The train was much crappier than the Metro in DC, and Tom assured me that the train we were on was much nicer than the actual subway in New York, which was disturbing. I will say, the train was quite the melting pot, with all different languages and cultures represented. No one peed on me. However, within minutes of entering the city, I tried and failed to cross the street. Tom had already crossed, and AJ and I had waited. I saw a break in the cars and tried to cross, nearly hitting a biker who had come out of absolutely nowhere at blazing speeds. “Traffic flow!” she shouted. Whatever that means. T-Rexs are not made for city life. We finally got into a cab and headed over to the 9-11 memorial. I think I would have been better off walking the entire way.

The cabs have TVs in them to distract you from the fact that you are about to die.

Riding in a cab in NYC was pretty much one of the most terrifying things that has ever happened to me. There seemed to be no such thing as a speed between absolutely flooring it and slamming on the breaks. It was either one or the other. And can we discuss the fact that there are crazy people biking on the streets with these lunatics? Holy crap. I couldn’t look. I did appreciate that you could pay with a credit card, though.  That makes life much easier.

Tom had reserved tickets for us to go to the 9-11 memorial at 6pm. The tickets are free, but you have to have them to get in. Let me tell you, they do not stint when it comes to having a ticket. First of all, we again walked about another mile from where the cab dropped us off to the place to pick up the tickets. It was kind of hot, but we trekked on. I observed that gay men in New York dress exactly like fratty southerners, which was extremely awkward. We eventually got the tickets and got in line for the memorial. It was a huge process to get in. There are literally 6 different check points where you have to show them your ticket. Not ID, just your ticket, which I found weird. There was an x-ray scanner just like at the airport. It was intense.

Tom in front of the sign. “One World Trade Center,” the new WTC, is the tall building under construction on the left.

One of the reflection pools. The victims names go all the way around the two pools – it is truly beautiful.

One of the best things about the memorial was how many different cultures and groups of people were there. It was great seeing everyone come together and remember the tragedy that took place. It is clearly a day that affected the entire world.

Is it awkward to take a picture at the 9-11 memorial?

Everyone was starving by that point, so we hopped in another cab and headed to Little Italy for some authentic New York pizza. Cab #2 was by far the most terrifying experience of all. I think even Tom was scared, and he goes there all the time. I was tempted to ask all of our cab drivers where they were from, just out of curiosity, but it occurred to me that their attention might be better focused on the road. We somehow made it in one piece to Little Italy, which is pretty much just like you imagine it to be, except I didn’t see any mob hits take place.

Very festive, but I did not see any members of the cast of Jersey Shore.

We were headed to Lombardi’s, which bills itself as America’s first pizzeria. I have never had real New York pizza before, so I was pretty excited since everyone talks about how it is soooooo superior.

The giant picture of the owner could not possibly make him look more like a closet mobster. I know this because I watched the Sopranos.

When the pizza came, I was a bit…perplexed. There was not that much cheese on it – just sort of odd splotches where it looked like they had dropped a round of mozzarella or something. This saddened me because I love cheese. Honestly, at that point I was so hungry that a homeless person could have peed on that pizza and I would have eaten it anyway, so it didn’t really matter. It ended up being quite tasty, although I’m not yet convinced NYC pizza is soooo much better.

Obviously not sick of me taking pictures yet

Next on the list was Chinatown, which was just a short walk away. I was sooooo not prepared for Chinatown. First of all, unlike Little Italy, which is one big melting pot, the people in Chinatown are actually…Chinese. Like, there’s Asian people everywhere. Approximately 60 Asian women offered to give me a massage. No thank you – I know what “Asian massage” means and I am not currently in need of one, thankyouverymuch.

Every single sign is written in Chinese. Sometimes English too, if you got lucky.

I had been warned about the smell in Chinatown, but I had not been warned about the sights. There were fish and slabs of meat just out on tables along the sidewalk. I was wearing flip flops and there was dirty water everywhere. I made a silent vow to burn those flip flops as soon as I got home. Flies were all over the fish and meat and I just could not handle it. I will take frozen food any day of the week. Still, it was pretty cool to feel like you were entirely submerged in a different culture. We’re not in South Carolina anymore, y’all!

I don’t know much about fish, but I think the prices were pretty good. The bad news is you have to skin it yourself.

We finally made our way down some street where they sell a lot of fake purses and sunglasses. I want to say it was called Canal street. The sidewalks seemed impossibly narrow, but maybe that’s because they were lined with people trying to shove merchandise in your face. Oddly enough, there was an entire contingency of men from West Africa mixed in with the Asian crowd, and they were extremely pushy. I did not buy any fake Coach, although I have to say, the replicas were outstanding. We eventually caught another cab back to the train, a journey that obviously involved me seeing my life flash before my eyes no less than 5 times. After the walk back to the car, we headed over to the riverfront area in Hoboken to check out the view of the city at night. By this point I had probably walked another 5 miles on top of the marathon I ran that day, so I was pretty wiped out, but the view was beautiful.

T-Rex Mom always says that pictures with no people in them are boring, but there is nothing boring about this. I guess Tom is technically in this photo, but you know what I mean.

Does anyone else think it looks like AJ is about to lose his mind in this picture? Must be the light piercing his brain.

So, I successfully spent 4 total hours in New York City and accomplished the following:

1. I did not get mugged.
2. No homeless people peed on me.
3. I avoided buying an “I <3 NY” shirt.
4. I saw the 9-11 memorial.
5. I ate New York pizza.
6. I survived not one, but three cab rides.
7. My feet got so covered in dirt that the bottoms were black when we got back to Tom’s house.
8. I purchased precisely zero counterfeit purses or sunglasses.
9. My hair smelled like fish for a solid 12 hours.
10. No birds attacked me except for one pigeon who I made AJ scare away after he made some questionable pecking motions in my direction.

All in all, a pretty successful trip. I was a bit overwhelmed, so I think 4 hours was the perfect amount of time. I am sure I will go back again someday, but I don’t want to push my luck with the whole not being peed on thing. Sometimes you have to quit while you’re ahead. Exceptions made for entry into the NYC marathon, of course.

Leave a comment and tell me your favorite thing about New York! Hint: mine is not the cabs.

I woke up Sunday morning absolutely terrified.

It’s been awhile since I was truly nervous or fearful before a race. Sure, I get that “this is stupid” feeling before every single one of them when I awaken at the ass crack of dawn, but I’m not afraid. Well, that was before the great DNF incident of 2012. Instead, I had the “this is stupid” feeling about my new running skirt, which annoyed me just by its mere existence. I decided to try one out because as it gets hotter, the shorts that I normally wear are not great with wicking away sweat. Fine the rest of the year, not fine in the summer. SO I opted for a skirt, thereby putting me in that category of people who care what they look like when they run. I am generally not one of those people, so knowing that people might think I was annoyed me in advance. Also, I was pretty stressed out because the race directors had emphasized that there would be a lot of traffic and limited parking and we needed to get there early. As you know, I detest getting to races early. But there I was, running out the door of the hotel at 5:45 am for a 7 am start 10 minutes away, leaving little AJ sleeping peacefully.

Because my Pea was not there to provide me with an adequate breakfast, I had to stop at Dunkin’ Donuts for a bagel along the way. Fortunately, I reached the race parking an hour before the start, putting me in a position I am rarely in – able to make the Maniacs picture!

This isn’t even all of us…some people, aka Anders, Sally, and Harold, didn’t even hear the picture being announced. So it was a good group!

So the race started at 7 for just the marathoners, and the half marathoners were set to start at 7:20.   As I took off with Charli, I heard a voice behind me telling 3 girls that they were running with the wrong group – they were half marathoners who started with the fulls.

Marathoner: “Um, just so you guys know, I think you might be in the wrong group. The half marathon starts after the full.”

Half-Marathoner representative: “No it doesn’t, everyone starts together.”

Marathoner: “Well everyone here is wearing a different color bib than you. It might not matter, but just so you know.”

Half-marathoner representative: “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. That’s what chip timing is for.”

After the girls passed, I turned around to tell the marathoner who had confronted them that she was right and the girls were wrong- their race started later. And actually, asshats, it DOES matter because now the real leaders of the half marathon are gonna pass by you and go WTF? Lo and behold, the brave marathoner was Sally and her dad Harold, who I met at the Kentucky Derby Festival Marathon. I was so excited! I had no plans for this race other than I wanted to take it really, really easy and make sure I didn’t lose control of my extremities at any time. Seems reasonable, right? So I decided to run with Sally and Harold. Sally is absurdly, crazy fast. She ran Boston this year and pretty much every year before that since she started running. She is a super hero in my sad slow world. She and her dad, Harold, are both Maniacs, and she runs some races by herself and some with him at his pace (around 5:30). They have run over 100 marathons, most of them together.

When you run fast, you get a good time. When you run slow, you have a good time! Harold and I pose with one of the many T-Rex statues. It’s like they knew I was coming.

Sally and Harold stop and take a picture at every mile marker, so I also participated in this tradition. However, I have none of the pictures because Sally took them all and she apparently does not know how to upload pictures on facebook. As we ran through Wilmington, we met quite a few characters who would join us on our journey. There was Bill, the “ghost of Delaware,” aptly named because he initially photobombed all of our mile pictures since he was running the same pace. There was Dave, a fellow Maniac who kept passing us and then being passed by us. There was Shirtless Joe, who lasted wearing his shirt about one mile and was walk/running his way through the race. And eventually, there was Michelle, who became Harold’s bff since they both power walk at absurdly fast speeds. Seriously, trying to keep up with them while they were walking was like being a little kid again when your mom is walking really fast through the grocery store. I literally had to run to keep up with them.

The course was sort of a double loop that ran through the city, a park, past the zoo, a couple of neighborhoods, and Little Italy. I say it was sort of a double loop because the second loop course varied slightly from the first. Thank God there were people everywhere because with all of the turns and the out and back sections, it was a little bit confusing, but we found our way. Around mile 4 or so, we started to get passed by the half marathon leaders – the ones that actually started the time. I always love being able to see the fastest people during a race, but I felt sorry for the faster half marathoners during many parts of this course. There were some narrow trails and running lanes throughout that made it almost impossible for them to pass the marathoners. Just one more reason to be thankful I’m not fast.

Running over the swinging bridge with Sally the Great. For some reason, not at all scary the first time and absolutely terrifying the second time.

The volunteers on this course were outstanding. There weren’t a ton of spectators, but the ones who were there were great and the volunteers were enthusiastic and helpful, especially in the neighborhoods we ran through. The three of us (sometimes five or more, depending on the locations of the Ghost of Delaware, Shirtless Joe, and Michelle) were having a grand old time stopping to take pictures, chatting with the people around us, etc. I missed Kate, but I did learn that Sally is just as obnoxious as me and Kate and also greatly enjoys yelling out the names of all the people passing by on the out and backs. We entertained ourselves by trying to see who could read the name of the oncoming runner first. Oh, the things we do when we’re spending five hours running.

The sign before this said “Almost there!” I ignored it.

When we were running through Little Italy, I saw a tiny puppy scampering along the sidewalk and did the appropriate thing, which was obviously squeal and immediately ask the nearest person if I could pick up the dog and take a picture with it. This puppy is the new best thing that has ever happened to me during a marathon, quickly replacing Churchill Downs as my favorite race course memory. Hey, the horses didn’t give me a kiss on the face.

If we had been on the second loop, I would absolutely have stolen this dog.

On the loop through the neighborhoods, we also spotted the signs that had so kindly been made for all of the 50 Staters and the people running their first marathons. This is why I love smaller races. You would never get that kind of personalized touch at a Rock ‘n Roll race. Ugh, I can’t even utter that phrase without being irritated. Stupid Rock ‘n Roll.

This is why I join lots of running clubs.

On the way back to the half marathon finish and the start of the second loop, Sally and I made a goal not to be lapped by a marathoner. Tragically, we were lapped by the winner of the marathon at approximately mile 12.9, where we promptly revised our goal to not be lapped by two marathoners. We were able to achieve that quite successfully. Then I saw AJ, Tom, and Brieann!

I’m squatting because I thought Tom and Brieann were in the picture too. They weren’t. So now it’s just awkward.

I was still feeling ok at this point in the race – about halfway. We had finished the half at pretty much perfect five hour pace. My back was achy, but what else is new? I was really having a ton of fun with the gang. We got to see AJ again around mile 15, since he was stationed at the top of an out and back.

I tried to be less awkward and ended up looking obese instead. Win some, lose some.

Somewhere along the second loop through the park, Sally and I were talking about my back problems. She is a running coach, so she watches me run for a second and goes, “hey, um, can I tell you something about your form?”

Me: “What, that it sucks?”

Sally: “Well, yeah…”

She went on to explain that I kind of shuffle my feet and don’t kick my heels up high enough. Not that this will help my back, but it is good information if for no reason other than looking more like a runner in my race photos.

I ran with Sally, Harold, and company all the way until mile 21, when my back couldn’t take it anymore and my heart also decided to protest. My leg started to freeze up and it felt like I was going to lose control of it again, but I was able to stop and stretch until it stopped. Crisis averted! It was also pretty warm that day, and I was having a tough time. The good news is that all my afflictions have left me with absolutely no pride of shame, so I waved goodbye and promptly sat down under a shady tree. Some nice volunteers brought me water. I sat for a good five or ten minutes waiting for my heart to calm down, and when it eventually, I began my slow walk-run progression towards the end. While running through the neighborhood, I noticed that all the little signs that were made were gone. NOOOO! Oh the humanity. I asked a volunteer and she pointed to a trailer that contained them. I asked her if I could go search for mine, and when she didn’t answer quickly enough, I ran in there anyway and eventually dug mine out. Victory!

Around mile 22, I found Shirtless Joe and walked with him and another 50 stater for awhile. Running with Joe ended up working out great because neither of us wanted to walk the whole rest of the way, but we also didn’t have motivation to run without each other. I was awkwardly carrying my sign while running and it flapped in the breeze. We saw Juggling Guy, who runs marathons and juggles the entire time. It is very impressive.

He drops the ball sometimes. HEYOOOOOOO!

Shirtless Joe and I finally began the long climb up the last hill at mile 25. This is down a busy main road in downtown Wilmington. Despite the 6 hour time limit, this stretch of road had inexplicably opened to traffic by the 5:30, leaving us forced to stop at intersections and dodge buses that were in the running lane. I was not happy. I don’t mind time limits, but if you have a time limit, you should stick to it – not close early or late. The conditions were really dangerous and it’s not often that I complain about safety during a marathon, but this is an exception.

After what seemed like forever, we finally saw AJ, Tom and Brieann, who all thought I had died somewhere along the course because it was taking me so long. Nope, that’s just my marathon pace lately.

Shirtless Joe and I crossed the finish line around 5:46, coating ourselves in glory with one of my worst times ever. I was tired and sore, but the course was beautiful and I really did have a great time. At the end, all my favorite Maniacs were still around to greet me – even better!

Anders greeted me immediately and took this unfortunate picture of me with my sign, which I did indeed run with for 5 miles.

Want to know how to take a hideous picture? Step 1: run a marathon. Step 2: Stuff a bag of ice down the front of your sports bra to give the appearance of a third boob. Step 3: Make a creepy smile.

So, I didn’t die or become paralyzed in my most recent adventure. And isn’t that really what marathoning is all about? No? Ok, well I also had fun. In a true testament to my absurdity, AJ and I had to hurry back to the car so I could get to the hotel and shower before we headed to New York City for a few hours.

That’s right. Marathon in the morning, NYC in the afternoon.

Did I mention it was my first time going and that I’m afraid of cities unless I’m running through them? That’s right. T-Rex takes New York in Part 3.

Brace yourselves, people. You’re in for a week of blog posts, because my happy ass decided to cram so much stuff into this weekend that it will require not one, not two, but indeed THREE parts to explain, thereby making this my most epic race weekend report of all time. As previously noted, I accept T-Rex items as gifts of gratitude – please do not hesitate.

Saturday morning I woke up at 5:30 am to force AJ out of bed prepare to leave at 6 am for the 8 ish hour drive to Wilmington, Delaware. You know you have life issues when you wake up an hour and a half earlier on the weekends to get to your marathons than you do on the weekdays to get to work. We left promptly at 6 thanks to my cajoling, and I generously agreed to drive so AJ could sleep on the way. I mean, he wasn’t running this weekend or anything, so I figured it was the least I could do. I know. I am SUCH a good girlfriend.

We rolled along I-95 to Fredricksburg, Virginia, keeping ourselves entertained by Mad Men – our current Netflix obsession – and of course the occasional glance back at the road. It got to be around lunchtime, so I decided to search and see if there were any Moe’s in the immediate vicinity, since baby has needs and those needs include primarily burritos. Lo and behold, Google maps showed that there was INDEED a Moe’s located just off the highway! Phenomenal! So we drove to the little dot on the map where we were told to go. And there was no Moe’s. We drove past the dot, around the dot, and through the dot, but still, there was no Moe’s to be found. Only crappy Chipotle. I don’t want to say I almost had a breakdown about it, but I didn’t not have a breakdown about it, if you know what I mean. After about 15 minutes of searching in vain, we settled on Chipotle, which also makes “burritos.” It was such a disappointing experience. They didn’t even have sweet tea. Virginia, you used to be in the Confederacy just like the rest of us. Please get your shit together.

Never again will I consider Chipotle a substitute for Moe’s.

We ended up arriving in Delaware a little after 3 despite hitting DC traffic and having the states of Maryland and Delaware try to claim our future first-born child via tolls. AJ’s childhood best friend, Tom, and his girlfriend, Brieann, would be arriving from New Jersey to have dinner with us and keep AJ company during the race the next day, and the timing couldn’t have been better. I had already spoken to Anders and the four of us headed over to his host family’s house to pick him up so we could go to the expo. We needed to stop for gas, and after driving in seemingly endless circles, we found a gas station.

They just want to do hoodrat stuff with their friends.

Right in front of the gas station stood literally every “hood”  stereotype I have ever seen or heard of. This picture really does not capture the true essence of the situation.  So rarely do so many characters congregate together right in front of my eyes. We had the following individuals:

• Jacked male who looks like 50 Cent (ps, remember 50 Cent?) and is going up to car windows to “give directions” and/or sell drugs
• Skinny family outcast wearing tight jeans and hipster shoes
• Man with full afro and afro pick stuck in it
• Old grandmother sitting on the porch
• 20-something mother of 5 children who is also pregnant – leading said children across the street
• Morbidly obese white woman with excessive tattoos and greasy hair who comes out occasionally to yell at everyone
• Skinny white girl sitting on lap of jacked male when he is not selling drugs

And the list goes on. I think they noticed me taking a picture because all of a sudden everyone got off the porch and stared at the car. Shit got real uncomfortable real fast. Fortunately, we were done getting gas at that point and started to make our way to the expo. Except google maps told us the wrong place to go, so we ended up all over the city of Wilmington desperately seeking packet pickup. Eventually we made it and the best thing ever happened.

The elusive Tubman-Garrett Riverfront Park

I was recognized in public.

Yes. Fact. That really happened.

Woman: “Hi, are you Danielle?”

Me: ” Yes…”

Woman: “Hi, I’m Sandy! I recognized you from your blog.”

OMG/JESSIE SPANO FREAK OUT/WAYNE’S WORLD/PARTY TIME/EXCELLENT. Don’t worry, I totally played it cool. I was all, “oh, really? So nice to meet you!” I didn’t offer to autograph anything, contrary to the title of this post. Seemed unnecessary. (For the record, the day someone asks me to autograph something would be the new best day of my life.)

Sandy is a Maniac who has been following my blog, but we had never met before. It turns out she was coming to the Maniacs dinner I had planned at Iron Hill Brewery. Interesting fact: I hate planning things. It makes me really nervous. I always feel so much pressure, like it will be my fault if people don’t have fun. Or what if they don’t show up and it’s awkward? I think my palms were sweating. Fortunately, everything is fine when beer is involved, and everyone had a great time. In addition to Sandy, we had Anders, Charli, and Stacey who formed the Maniacs contingency, then Charli’s husband Jorge, AJ, Tom, and Brieann.

Remember that time AJ had no idea what he was getting himself into by dating me? Yup.

Dinner involved the usual discussion of upcoming races, which the non-runners tried to ignore. It also involved me sadly being informed that the Iron Hill Brewery does not sell pint glasses despite photos clearly indicating otherwise on Zagat.com. Ugh, so bitter. But the best part of dinner actually occurred after dinner during the amazing entertaining and mildly awkward photo shoot in which Anders made Sandy pose by the river in a variety of simultaneously awesome and amusing poses.

Considering how hard she was laughing while trying to do her modeling/sexy pose, this actually came out quite well.

Maniacs along the riverfront…I missed the “running casual” memo

Boys are such useless photography subjects

I would say we then headed back to the hotel, but the four of us decided we hadn’t quite had our fill of getting lost for the day, so it was time to search for a sports bar to watch the all-important hockey game with the 3 other hockey fans in the world.   Note: I am not a hockey fan. AJ pulled up the location of a “bar” on google maps and promptly drove us to a steel manufacturing plant, which is, um, not the same. After driving in circles, we eventually settled on a liquor store. I have to say, the main perk of being in the Union was that the liquor store was open after 7 pm. Amazing! And luckily, all of our hoodrat friends came out to visit too. So instead of going to a bar, we all camped out in me and AJ’s hotel room while the boys watched hockey on the computer and I awkwardly fell asleep at 10pm curled up in a chair wearing a bathrobe over my clothes. One more stereotype fulfilled.

In part 2, I will attempt to run the Delaware Marathon without paralyzing myself. Stay tuned.

I like this picture. That is all.