This morning I ran 3 miles. In succession. As in, I ran one mile, kept running, ran another one, kept running, and ran a 3rd one. I didn't even stop--not even at stop signs (no one was coming so chill out). It took me 34 minutes, which I don't think is super impressive, but heck! I ran.
Holy cats! Today I'm going to really sign up for the 4 mile race on Thanksgiving. I'm sure I'll be bringing up the rear, but I'll finish it. If I have to crawl, I'll finish it. And I'm getting me a t-shirt to prove it.
In other news, Maggie is a sexist. She brought me a toy this morning and said "Willman (of course that makes sense right? Cole-man, Will-man?) broke a my toy. My daddy fix it." I said, "I can fix it." And she looked at me very sternly and said "No. My daddy fix it." Even after I fixed it she acted like I'd really overstepped my bounds.
She obviously doesn't know that I ran 3 miles this morning. I'm on a roll. I think I could pretty much do anything.