After running a 10k race on Sunday, I consumed, evidently, one too many eggnogs. I woke up with a headache that could have knocked a buzzard off a shitwagon. A headache, though, is considerably better, I think, than puking in your girlfriend's sink, which is what my significant other did after consuming about 17 too many eggnogs at an ugly sweater party we attended this weekend.
Anyways.
Despite what she may think, Hobbs doesn't hate running as much as she thinks. Or maybe she does.
Upon suggesting to Hobbs that we "participate" in the 25th Annual Resolution 5k Run on New Year's Eve, her response was (seriously), "That's a fucking terrible idea, Jules." Hmm.
Hobbs and I ran this race 10 years ago, on the eve of Y2K. What a great way to commemorate ten more years of our running history together!
After much berating she has agreed to "think about it". Jesus H.
The good news is that Hobbs and I will be reunited in all of our running glory over Christmas time. I, for one, am stoked for the running buddy. And of course, for the egg nog.
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