10 miles...am I a moron?

So Saturday we are running a race in Louisville. 10 miles. I've not come close to running that distance since Ironman (last September), and my longest run has been just over 6 uncomfortable miles. Anyone with half a brain working in their head would decide not to run this race, but I'm going to be run/walking it, and I'm looking at it as my atonement for months of slothfulness. There's a part of me that likes to punish myself when I don't do what I think I should be doing.

Just got back from a trip to Michigan with Annie in tow. She had a rough time in the car--too much to look at and no self-control. She ate well; she wouldn't eat dog food, so I gave her people food that she doesn't normally get to eat. A cheeseburger. A hamburger. Gravy. An egg. Spoiled. I adore this dog...too much, really.

And there aren't any deep thoughts for this post. A trip home always makes me a little introspective and a little wistful. And I guess the very nature of introspectiveness means that I'm not going to post it for the world to see until I've done a little processing.