So I ran a half marathon over the weekend.

Not an official one or anything, I just went out for a trail run on Saturday morning, and all of a sudden, but the time I got home, I’d run 13 1/2 miles.

I need to reflect on the absurdity of that. Fifteen years ago I weighed 325 pounds and my idea of a health kick was only having one Whopper for lunch instead of two. Now, here I am running 13 miles on a beautiful Saturday morning just for the hell of it.

Two good things came of it:

  1. I didn’t toss my cookies
  2. A great idea came to my head for a character element in my third novel

Totally worth it, even though it hurts to stand, bend, or breathe this morning.