When I went out running today, waddling my way, sweating like anything and panting like a rabid dog, a young driver in a flashy sporty spanking new Mercedes flashed me his lights and gave me a thumbs up.
And for a millisecond there, I felt like I was Kara Goucher.
I really did.
Okay, you can puke now.
Note: What's with the short entries? I'm still on call and my next race is this weekend. You'll have a race report and gory on call stories by next week. Till then, I'm still shutting up.