PG-13

What the hell!? I let my sister-in-law talk me into running Ragnar this year. I don't know what I was thinking. Seriously. Mostly because it's April, soon to be May. And in April, soon to be May, this little thing takes over my complete life called my job. The suckage that is my job occurs on many levels none of which I will bore you with here. Suffice it to say, there is zip time to train. Because . . .when I get home from said job I. AM. SLEEPY. Do you hear me?! Sleepy. Please don't leave a post that tells me exercising will increase my energy. It's lies. All lies, I tell you! I'm running tonight, trying to contact my inner runner? And you know who I found? My inner bitch, and she's is screaming at me and super pissed that I'm encroaching on her 'sit on your butt with a bowl full of Starburst Jelly Beans (thank you my love) watching TV and don't bug me' time. I also had to sign the waiver which in essence (among other things) said that if I happen to fall into a pothole while I am running I won't sue anyone. My mom thinks I could possibly run into a cow. I think that would hurt. Running into a cow. Perhaps I'll run with a knife. Even though Mrs. Hansen in first grade asked me not too. See, if I run with a knife, steak knife to be exact, when I hit the cow, and if I hit him hard enough, I can saw me off a piece of hiney and bbq that bad dog up and eat whilst I am running.
Oh, and I paid 90 bucks for this experience.