Guess what I did?

I somehow managed to talk my lovely husband into signing up for the St. George marathon.  He must really love me because he doesn't even really like running all that much.  And this morning he got up and ran by himself (which he never does).  He downloaded a running app and he ate mini-wheats instead of eating a gigantic chocolate muffin for breakfast.  I'm impressed.

I, however, slept in because I was up all night asking myself, "What have I done?  Why did I do this to myself?  AGAIN?  I haven't run a marathon in 3 years. Me and my stupid projects."  Because I'm optimistic like that.

It's just that I realized yesterday that I needed to be engaged in something I could feel proud of.  Something that was mine and that could get me out of this rut.  And since Boston happened, I've been thinking about marathons an awful lot.

The thing is we're only in a lottery.  It's entirely possible we'll find out in a couple weeks that we're not even running it.  But we're both kind of hoping....