I thought I was going to be able to run the Marine Corps Marathon this last Sunday.
An email came through at work last week about available bibs from people who were injured. It was too late to transfer names, but who cares, right? I'd have paid $95 to run, even if it was in the name of an older Korean male doctor. Really, that's who's bib I was going to buy.
But our commo plan fell through. I provided my cell phone to a lady who was going to deliver it to Reagan National on Saturday morning, while I was picking up a friend who was flying in to run the marathon.
I didn't realize it, but I'd fat fingered a wrong digit on the number EVEN THOUGH I DOUBLE CHECKED IT! I just didn't SEE it. I should have insisted on getting a number from the lady, but didn't. So, of course, it didn't work out. I was in the agreed upon place 15 minutes early, and waited 15 minutes later, but she didn't show. In the mean time, she was trying to call and text the number I'd given her. I must have just missed her when I went to terminal C to meet my friend. After his flight arrived, we went back out to the spot where I was supposed to meet her, but nothing. We went on to the Expo and I'd hoped she'd call. Right. That wasn't going to happen.
So maybe it was not meant to be. I was exhausted from working to get our house on the market.
And as it was, my husband and I probably walked 10 miles to various points on the marathon route to see our friend come through. We were both tired and sore from working on the house. After the marathon, all three of us; the friend who actually ran it, and my husband and I, felt beat up.
But good times. All is good.
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