"It's a dangerous business going out your door.

You step out onto the road and if you don't keep your feet, there's no telling where you might be swept off to." -Bilbo Baggins

It's 11:42 PM. I should be sleeping. But I am here, tippity tapping on my keyboard. Let me tell you why.

Coach Curran and I just had us a little adventure. We stared death in the face (there were lots of dead birds and gophers on the side of the road). We climbed mountains (a few baby hills that I imagine felt similar to what ET was going through during the times between little piles of Reese's Pieces). We fought off disease and malicious attacks by the area's wildlife ('skeetos. Those little mamba jambas got so much blood from us, I'm pretty sure we're related now). And finally, we fought pneumonia as we sucked down milkshakes (Mint brownie shake for J. Chocolate malt for moi).

That's right, dear reader. We ran eleven miles. No stopping. Just running. And guess what. It was completely and utterly fantastic. I might have over-exaggerated the battles that we fought along the way. But let's all be honest and acknowledge that eleven miles is a fair amount to run. Yes, I'm bragging.

Here's how we fueled up before. Jamie is the coach, but I am the nutritionalist. Although, I can't take credit for this concoction. No sir. This came from the genius sitting next to me who sometimes stirs coffee into his orange juice and has admitted to eating dog food. And liking it.

Ingredients for this inventive dish that actually was the perfect fuel for our run were:
- potato. microwave-baked.
- black beans. canned.
- guacamole. thanks for the left-overs, Ma.
- siracha. a little zing never hurt anybody.
- cheese. optional. we opted to skip it at the last minute.

So that's that. Do our knees hurt? Absolutely. Are our feet aching? You know it. Are we excited to move our bodies tomorrow? Not exactly. Will we do it again? You bet your sweet ass we will.