Cheater Cheater Pumpkin Eater

I did it.  I did the RunDead 5k (the run where zombies chase you).  I started and finished it, and there's documentation proving so. I finished 54th out of 423. 27:29 total with a 8:52 pace, and I am obviously completely full of shit.  So how did I do it and have the results verified?  Well my new bestie and I cheated.  Her ankle was hurt, so she was struggling.  I am no runner, as you know, so when she suggested we sneak under the Caution tape that served as a poor barrier in the course, I was all for it.  Little did we know, we were hopping from the first third of the race to the home stretch.  All of a sudden, we saw the finish line, and people were clapping for us and cheering us on.  The best part is that neither of us felt guilty.  It was just for fun, and it's not like we won any awards or anything, so no harm no foul.  I would like to do it again next year for realsies, though.  I did lose all of my flags, but the hubs, Zombie-Dodger Extraordinaire, managed to keep 2 of his. He finished 352nd, if that gives you any indication of how much of a cheater I am.

Me looking sassy and smug before we headed to Charleston.

The hubs and I encountered our first zombie before the race. Sorry about your tigers, bro.

My sister from another mister and me. The best thing about this race, by far, was making a new friend.

I still want to be able to run a 5k non-stop and progress up to some longer races, so I'm starting the training process all over. I had a birthday on the 24th, and I'm determined for it to be the last one in which I'm out of shape.  My goal is to be fit when I hit my 35th birthday.  I have about a year to do this, and now that Halloween is over, and I've devoured a significant portion of my children's candy, I'm ready to get back on the wagon and achieve this goal.  As long as I don't get the flu from one of the rugrats, I'm starting running and eating as cleanly as possible tomorrow. Why tomorrow?  'Cause a girl's gotta binge.  Duh.

Dancing Queen

On Saturday, for a while I forgot that I'm a chunky 33-year-old mother of three, and dropped it like it's hot at a club with my neighbor.  It's been a long, long, LONG time since I shook my money maker, and that was many pounds ago.  Despite this fact, I got all dolled up in a borderline-slutty new outfit and put my inhibitions in the closet for the evening and really enjoyed myself.  So much so, that I didn't feel my knees screaming for me to stop.  I'm not sure when it happened, but at some point, all of my killer moves did enough damage to my knees that I could barely even walk yesterday.  I consulted my at home physician (WebMd), and concluded I had given myself Patellofamoral Pain Syndrome, commonly known as "runner's knee".  This is especially hilarious, given the fact that I can't even run a 10th of a mile without having an asthma attack. I'm better today, but my ego is seriously wounded at being reminded that I'm neither as young or as thin as I used to be.  All the more reason to continue working towards getting in shape.

How I think I looked:

How I really looked: