There are days that I am only still alive because of my dog. She is super reactive, hates small children and other dogs, dislikes random people for no apparent reason, and barks all the time. I haven’t slept through the night in years because of her, I can’t take her for walks as there are always dogs or kids out, and even my kids don’t like her. I can’t die, because nobody else will take my dog if I do. I can’t die because if I am gone, she will be put down most likely. I can’t die, because I have to live for her. My kids don’t need me anymore. In fact, it would financially benefit them both if I was no longer living. My friends obviously do quite well without me around 99% of the time, and they would quickly get over that 1% they might miss me. My job would definitely replace me before my obituary hit the paper (do they even print obituaries anymore?) I might dare to say there would be many who would be glad to hear of my passing. But my dog needs me. And as long as I
This past weekend I "ran" my first marathon. I put ran in quotes because with my official finish time, I don't feel as if I was running very much. 5:31:45. An hour over my goal time of 4.5 hours. To say I am disappointed in myself is an understatement. I am almost ashamed of my results. I know to some that may sound like I'm looking for sympathy, or to others it may sound absurd. But, it's the truth. I set out to do something, and I feel as if I did not accomplish it. As if I've failed. So, below is my race report on the 2011 Philadelphia Marathon, in an effort to put it behind me and move on. Both of my boys wanted to go to the marathon. And I wanted both of them there. So, my wonderful friend Erin agreed to come along for the ride and keep an eye on them during the race. Saturday morning we packed up Ruby the Rav4 and headed out for the trip. We made it down there with very little difficulty, considering my limited city driving experience.