Last night at dinner Blair says, "You need to go back and read your blog entry."
"Which one?" I ask.
"Because that's where you talk about finding your new running mantra of 'I don't stop when I'm tired, I stop when I'm finished.'"
"And you didn't do that at Salem Lake."
"Well that's pleasant," I say. "Would you like me to just bend over so you have a better target for when you kick me again?"
"In fact," Blair said, ignorning me, "Your new mantra should be something like (and here he raised his voice to his high-pitched "Dena voice"), 'I don't stop... unless I get kind of tired or out of sorts or it's, like, really hard or maybe I'm having a bad hair day.'" He took a bite of food and smiled at me.
"What the hell?" I ask. "Did you drink a bottle of mean juice today?"
"I just think you should be careful of false advertising."
Actually, I thought of that mantra over and over during the Salem Lake run. I also decided around mile 12, pretty much like Blair said, that I was getting myself a new friggin' mantra. I had a few in mind but I think now I'm going to go with something like:
"Run. Just to show the husband he's not right."