I have been boasting to whoever will listen about my participation in this international running event. Move over, FIFA World Cup! US Open, I bite my thumb at you! Wimbledon who? Run Like A Robot is the wave of the future. The wave of the future. The wave of the future. (Did you ever see The Aviator? If not, you probably think I'm CRAZY.)
Anyway, I feel that I entered this group under false pretenses because I never intended to run. Not even one step. I detest running.
So I walked. To my local strawberry stand and back. I never broke a sweat. I ate half a kilo of fresh strawberries along the way. I wore jeans (it's freaking 55 degrees here today) and flip-flops (I don't own tennis shoes) and my robot shirt (which Ella informed has "two very sad robots" on it). In an effort to sound more hard-core, make sure you include that I pulled my daughters in the wagon approximately 1/3 of the way.
Aubrey blogs here: http://www.pettyfour.blogspot.com
