Colorado. Runner. Yogi. Fucking hilarious, like, 17% of the time.

How do you afford your rock and roll lifestyle

So today I ran a little thing called a marathon. You may have heard of it - it's something crazy people do when they want to punish themselves for ... well, anything really. It's sort of the modern socially acceptable version of a hair shirt. Ok, that's not really what I think. Look at how happy I was once the second I crossed the finish line.

WINNER! Ok, not really.

Anyway. I feel exercised and tired and exhausted and like tomorrow I am going to the sorest woman ever.

Sorest. Ever.

A friend of mine recently posted about training to run the San Francisco marathon, and his very wise girlfriend provided him with this quote: “IF YOU RAN WITHOUT SACRIFICE, CONGRATULATIONS. YOU JUST JOGGED. Running hurts. It always has. Woolly mammoths didn’t just roll over onto a plate and serve themselves up to prehistoric man with fries and a shake. They had to be caught – and running down woolly mammoths was a bitch. Guess what? Running is still a bitch. But one with a purpose. It teaches us that good things do not come easy. It teaches us that hard work will be rewarded and laziness will be punished. Don’t expect to learn those life lessons from running’s shiftless stepchild; jogging. Next time you suffer on the roads or trails, suffer proudly. It means you run like an animal.” (You can read the whole post here.)

So either I'm an animal or deep in atonement. Either way, I accomplished something today. Fuck yeah. Now, I'm going to bed.

feel the rain on your skin

down to the wire, we're gonna make it