I am, by all means, NOT a runner. I like to run. I'm just not very good at it. I love being out on the open road, listening to my iPod, gawking at how horendous everyone else's yard looks. I love taking Reece with me, too. Recently the two of us tackled the Ringling 4-miler, where we ran over the Ringling Bridge. Twice. Once over, once back.

It was crazy hard, pushing basically an extra 50 lbs over the bridge. Twice.

While we were in the starting corral I saw a friend from high school, Robin (WHO, by the way, is the daughter of my favorite teacher in the whole world, Mrs. Katzman--who happened to be my elementary art teacher and the reason I became an art teacher in the first place).

I digress.

So, there we were in the starting corral talking about how this was Robin's first race. "You'll be addicted", I said. She asked me if I was going to do the Sarasota Marathon and I told her she was crazy if she thought I could run 13.1 miles, too. Only serious runners do those kinds of runs.

The next day I found myself looking at the route for the half-marathon. "hummm, that's ONLY the same route for the bridge run (over and back) with some nice scenery along the way through the ritzy part of town."

It was some insane out-of-body-experience that just then I found myself registering for the half-marathon on March 14th. Yep, that's right. Me.

If you're wondering what I'll be doing for the next month, in addition to working 2 jobs, putting together fundraisers, being a wife and mommy, cooking, cleaning, and (maybe) showering...

...i'll be running.