I read the bible by coal-lit light.

HP03 finally got off of her ass and did some working out. Training for a marathon is stressful because it feels as if you're never doing enough. Add three days off to your calendar and you may, in fact, not be doing enough. I was sick. Gawd. After wrestling a nasty cold that must have started around Friday (somewhere between the shooters and beer or poorly mixed Vodka heavy Capecoders) HP03 set out on a 4.5 mile run after work. It went pretty well, but there has been a mysterious development since the weather shift. HP03 is reasonably sure she has developed hyperhidrosis, as she has been soaked down to the bone by the time she finishes her runs, despite the fact that it is much cooler. Ever get sweat into your eye with contacts in? Yup. Worst feeling ever. I'm thinking sweat band...? SIKE. HP03 knows about the team's emphasis on appropriate levels of sass -- especially when sweating profusely.

In an attempt to cram a week's worth of workouts into two days (who actually works out on Friday...boo!) and to beat the ever-earlier darkness, HP03 woke at 6:30AM to run with SB. They cruised a slice of Rock Creek Park and buzzed through the zoo, swinging by the "Great Cats" hoping to catch the early morning feeding (alas, to no avail) and headed on home. All in all the run was a success, but HP03 was spitting like a 1970s MLB All-Star. Which, as any medically certified Mom will tell you, is a "good" thing. It means the cold is "moving." Right. All of this movement has surely lead HP03's officemates to suspect she holds down the midnight shift in the mines.

"I got the black lung, Pops."