Yesterday, my husband (!) ran in his first 10K. He ran his first race this past July, the Crystal City Twilight 5K, on one of the hottest days of the year. After that race, I felt overcome with emotion -- I was just so proud of how healthy he has become and so awed at what his body could do after what he put it through. And yesterday. That he was able to run 6.2 miles in 1 hour and 3 minutes and 59 seconds. (He is really proud that it wasn't 1 hour and 4 minutes.) That he ran for recovery. That he raised over $750 for such a good cause. He's pretty amazing, right?
After the race, we decided to go to Eventide in Arlington for brunch to celebrate, plus one of us could afford the calories. That's going to be our last meal out for a WHOLE MONTH because we made a deal to try not to eat out for all of November.
And then we had a fight over who should have to go get the dog food out of the car, since we were both cozied up on our respective couches.
This must be marriage, right? Overwhelming emotions -- good and bad -- celebrating and trying to find discipline -- and we're trying to figure it out.