Just got back from the CowTown Marathon in Fort Worth where my "superhuman" (according to my brother) hubby placed 3rd. Despite his hacking cough, lack of training for the last week, and running in the wrong shoes which gave him blisters... he somehow managed to limp in at a 2:42 time. Um amazing! What's more amazing, he is disappointed with his time. Never pleased never pleased.
I for one was actually so proud i was moved to tears but in my attempt to push past the millions of people so i could congratulate my hubby i got pushed and shoved so much that my emotions quickly shifted to that of an annoyed prego lady. I gave up defeated and returned to my cheering section only to be reunited with Daniel a half hour later. Ya i'm a quitter, thus no marathon for me. (Other than the fact that i despise running and would literally die if I ever attempted such a feat).
I seriously took no pictures. Oops. My brother-in-law, friend, father-in-law (half), and niece(5K) ran as well. Runners are a crazy breed but still inspiring to watch.
The cheer squad in 40 degree weather (yes that is cold for a Texan)
OH and just in case you think its lame that i didn't run...listen to this. While wearing a giant ski coat, and bulging backpack I managed to squeeze my huge prego belly into a Port-O-Potty with Kolby, lift him up with one arm so he could do his business, lift my bag with the other arm to keep it from falling in other people's business, and hold my breath from the urinal filled with vomit and snot that only a runner can produce. Ta da!