The city is suddenly crawling (limping?) with runners here for Sunday's Chicago Marathon. I can spot them a mile away -- with their gaunt eyes, hipless hips, expensive running shoes and lean, sexy legs.
While this was supposed to be my first marathon, I'm actually not upset I won't be running it. My summer-long training taught me a lot about myself, my limits and my capabilities. And one thing I learned is -- at least at the moment -- I really don't have the passion to go through with an entire marathon.
I'm thrilled to report, though, that my mysterious tendon injury is all healed and I'm running again completely pain-free (except my knees are a little sore). And I have every intention of running my first half-marathon next summer. And this time, I won't forget to stretch.
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