In which I realize I am not 18 anymore

Some of you noticed the mention of crutches in my last post. Being hobbled does indeed suck, especially when the hobbled person in question has three children aged nearly 6, 3.5, and 1. I wish there was a good story behind why I'm on crutches. Alas, I'm just an idiot.

There was one perfectly good photobombed photo:

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But because I'm me, I felt the need to take it to the next, ridiculous level:

 

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And it didn't end very well for my knee, which would like me to tell you on her behalf that she is not, indeed, 18 anymore. She'd also like to add that it's time to lose that last 20 pounds of baby weight once and for all and pipe the hell down while you're at it, Manda.

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Let's just hope I can cram in enough recovery to start training for my next race on July 21 (two half marathons scheduled for October. SMOOTH MOVE EX LAX).

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