going on adrenaline, as usual

The marathon is in t-minus six days and aside from a random run here and there, I've been the definition of slack-a-lack since my eighteen-miler. I guess I should have been going to the gym these last few weeks. But I was much too busy eating doughnuts and pizza and finishing my article on pit bulls (it's so heartwarming, you'll want to go out and adopt one tomorrow—but you won't because you are responsible and thoughtful, of course, about such big life decisions).

Anyway, no problem! We will finish. It may take ten hysterical hours, but we'll finish. My comrades and I are planning a three-day stay in Napa, so I'm really hoping my imaginary admin Hillary will dispatch someone to please be there with a stretcher to scrape me up off the finish line. K, thanks!