This is what my Friday night looks like:
They're just resting between DJ sets at the mad dance party we're having right now. In fact, I'm pretty sure the neighbors are about to call the cops because we're so incredibly rowdy.
OK, perhaps I exaggerate. But cat dance party just sounds so much better than spending Friday night in bed with a sore throat two weeks before race day. That's right: My stupid marathon is Sept. 29, and I've come down with a craptacular cold.
The theme for my 2013 race season seems to be "derailment" and/or "bet you never saw that shit coming."
I guess I deserve it because I'm such a horrible person. Yet another example of my failure as a human being: Yesterday I told a solicitor for a children's charity that I don't like children and only support causes involving animals and birth control.
Yup. Let's just picture hell as a reunion of old friends around a bonfire.