Damn it.

Crap. Crap crap crap crap crap. Crap.

I ran the Mother's Day 10K today, but forgot to wear my timing chip, so I won't be showing up in the official results. The glory of having my name in the paper in 6-point type will not be mine ths year. My time was firmly back-of-the-pack, but it's still nice to be able to prove that I did it.

This year I finished in 67 minutes, which was around what I was aiming for. Two years ago I finished in 63 - it would have been nice to match that, but it hardly matters. To be honest, every single time I finish a run I'm amazed. Battling against the cheeto-eating, American Idol-watching side of myself is hard enough, I don't need to set time goals on top of that.

Actually, it's Coronation Street's fault that I forgot my time chip. I had just finished getting my race numbere on when they pulled this big fake-out, pretending Rita was dead. Turns out she was just sleeping. Wow, does that ever sound pathetic, especially since I was so mesmerized that I forgot to finish getting ready.

The race itself was...a really big race. Something like twelve thousand people this year, at least half of which are totally unable to grasp the concept of seeding. I suppose it would be considered unsporting to punch somebody in the head as you're running past them, but sometimes it's so very tempting. Seriously, walking six abreast and pushing SUV strollers while several thousand runners struggle to get around you? Are you trying to make my head explode?