Sunday, Frank dragged me out of bed at a g-d awful time. Seriously, the sun wasn’t even up yet when we left the house. Why did he drag me out of bed? He had a half marathon to run. (For those of you who haven’t seen the stickers on the cars or who have and wondered what the heck they meant, a half marathon is 13.1 miles.)
Now I’ve thought about doing the same, but to see him do it, I’m rethinking that idea. I mean it’s currently 12 miles further than I can run.
So yeah, Frank dragged me out of bed (I insisted on going anyway.) and we trekked to Saratoga for the Palio Half Marathon. He did a really awesome job and I’m so proud of him.
I’m quite proud of him and if he wants to run a full marathon, well, I certainly won’t argue it.
***I didn’t run the 5k if you were wondering, an injury and wedding planning got the best of me and I’m no where ready to even consider a 5k.***