cross that off the list

from jimmy fallon's thank you notes:

Thank you, the New York City marathon, for letting marathon runners do the one thing they love most: tell people they ran a marathon.

my legs may never be the same, but i did it.  i ran my first half-marathon.  as did my dad.  and sister.  we have run that distance before in training but not "officially".  i must say, i am pretty proud of all of us.  

can someone come massage my legs, please?  
would that be weird?

 all boys need is a field and some sticks to make waiting for runners tolerable.

 my sister killing it.  (she got all of the fast genes from my dad.  those skipped my dna.)

 my dad killing it.

 my cheering section.

 many minutes later, here i come.

 we did it!  hallelujah, thankyoubabyjesus.

 my big boy was so proud,

which is reason alone to keep running.  

(that is, as soon as my legs decide to function properly again).

p.s. my dad isn't sore.  he is 55.

p.p.s.

 

p.p.p.s.

here are some songs that kept me from stopping to walk.

 

 

 

love,

coco