my new boyfriend

I did not get arrested at Best Buy. I also did not get a registration packet. I got in the looooong line of people waiting to pick up their bibs and talked to my best friend on the phone about whether or not I was going to go to jail. She came up with the following brilliant suggestion:

Me: So I think the likelihood of them asking for money is kind of high here.
Bff: Just ask how much it is then say you have to go to the ATM and then don't come back.
Me: (stunned, awed silence)

But it didn't come to that. Instead the girl behind the counter searched for my name in the binder and didn't find it (I did however notice that my aunt and uncle were running the race, shoutout to Frank and Jenny, hope you enjoyed the free beer!), then pointed out a guy for me to ask for help. I thanked her, milled around until she wasn't looking and then left the store. BOOYAH.

So instead of running a five-mile race this morning I just went for a five-mile run. It sucked mostly. There were 26 mph winds and I just felt slow and bulky, and then about halfway through I got a side stitch that then migrated to just under my ribcage near my stomach. I didn't stop (I don't ever let myself stop and walk) but I did think about how I have newfound sympathy for people who get stabbed in the stomach as I am sure it is exactly the same pain.


ugh whatever Drew, dramatic much?

Later I went to run some errands with my dad. He needed new running shoes so we went to the amazing Movin Shoes where I peppered the salesmen with many questions, including if compression socks are worthwhile, if Mizuno has really changed everything about the Alchemy Wave which will anger me and what size technical T-shirt I should ask for on my marathon entry slip. My dad waited patiently while I did all of this (they know him so well there that someone was heading back to the stockroom to get his preferred shoes the minute we walked in), then asked if there was anything I needed.

WHY YES, YES THERE WAS. Which brings us to me and my new boyfriend:


Not at all representative of why I am single.

I realize I look spastic here but this literally is how excited I am to finally have a new foam roller. My current foam roller (aka now my ex-boyfriend) is in storage with my other belongings post-breakup, and it is also cheap and from my physical therapist's office so it's becoming depressed in the middle from all the rolling. Foam rolling sucks and hurts like a mother but it is also, in conjunction with icing, the only thing that keeps me pain and injury-free. So I have to stop blogging now because I have to go spend some QT with my new main man. My excitement about this will end in about five minutes when I am in excruciating amounts of IT band pain thanks to not having a foam roller for the past six months. It is an abusive relationship, to be sure.