What Have I Done?

I spent Sunday innocently enjoying my last day of a three day weekend. After trashing myself in the snow for too many days on end, I vowed to do some yoga and lay off any other form of exercise. I stuck to my vow but obsessively organized the house and checked dozens of items off one of my many to-do lists. Yes, this is my idea of a relaxing day. Checking items off of a to-do list is immensely satisfying for me. So is reducing the clutter in our house.

Someday Big E is going to figure out that every time he leaves me unsupervised for the weekend, I move all of his stuff around in some attempt to make things less cluttered. Or maybe he's already figured this out and leaves for the weekend when he knows things need to be cleaned up? 

Anyway, I was quietly enjoying my day of obsessive-compulsiveness when Squirrel interrupted my relaxation with a text about a race registration that was ending that day. I ignored it. I'd heard about this race and after my DNF of crabbiness at Tatanka, I wasn't convinced I wanted to sign up for another technical 100 miler.

I went about my organizing, finally stopping to show my support of Big E's team for the big game.

Ok, fine, I was only showing my support to annoying my Packers-loving parents. (Notice I'm still wearing some Lions colors under all that hideous gold.)

My support in the colors lasted about one minute before I pronounced the blanket too itchy. My support of the game lasted until half time, when I pronounced myself too exhausted from all my organizing to possibly stay up another minute.

As I got ready for bed, I could hear Big E on the phone with Squirrel, becoming convinced to sign up for this race. As I crawled under the covers, he finished his race registration and I pronounced it too early in the year to sign up for anything.

A few minutes later, as I was begging Big E to let me sleep because I was too exhausted to stay up another minute, a text came through from Jeffro, the Master of 25 Hours of Hillside. "Only one hour left to sign up."

"It's too technical for me," I told the big guy again.

"You know there's a run too."

What? I can run over the rocks instead of saying I'm going to ride and then carrying my bike?

Somehow, five minutes later, I had signed up to run 50 miles without ever even looking at the event website. Thankfully, the registration site at least explained that the race is unsupported, which kept me from signing up to run my first 100.

I should probably save that for a supported race.

I went to bed wondering how, exactly, I talked myself into running 50 miles without aid stations. The next morning, I received an email from the race director thanking me for signing up and double- checking to make sure I'd signed up for the right race.

"Are you sure you didn't mean to sign up to ride 50 miles?"

Good lord, you know when the race director questions you signing up for a race- it's gonna be brutal.

So apparently I should probably start training, even though the race is in September. Good thing I organized the chip shelf.