I'm guest-blogging today over at You Can't Fake Sweat about what it's like to be a new-ish runner two years down the road, and what I miss about being a brand new runner...
Now batting, number 33
Today, my age becomes a palindrome.
My mother has already stopped by, bearing many books, a bookbag, and a card. She will be taking me out to dinner Friday night.
Today, Matt and I plan to play tourists, and indulge in mini golf, go-cart racing, and clam shack cuisine. And then a Cape League game.
Several years ago, when I was working as a cook, we had a sanitation guide on the wall that informed us about proper hand-washing technique. It advised us to be sure to scrub our hands for at least 40 seconds, or the time it takes to sing "Happy Birthday To Me" twice.
I asked my friends to please seek help immediately if they ever found me serenely laving my hands in the hand sink, serenading myself to "Happy Birthday."
Unless it was today.