I never puked my heart out

This weekend, a really good friend of mine came to visit from a far away land known as Tennessee.  We are the kind of best friends who can go a month without talking, and we get back on track immediately.  

While she was in town, we did silly things like watch trashy TV and sit around eating thai food. But when we were not being lazy bums, we were working out.  Let me tell you, this little lady is not afraid of some hard work.

One such work out was a run on the trail behind my house.

While we were running, she started going WAY faster than me.  At first I was excited for her. She is an awesome runner, and why shouldn't she run faster than me?   GO WHITNEY!  

But of course, there is that part of every run where you want to punch even the sweetest squirrels in the face, and I started to get bitter.

 She's faster than me.  Why wouldn't she be? 
She weighs 100 pounds less than me.  
I bet I'd be a superior being if I didn't have to
 lug a half-absorbed twin around everyday.

Luckely, there is also that point in every run when you return to your senses.  When all the animals in the forest breath a sigh of relief, and your dear friend never has to know you hated her for .3 of a mile. 

Besides my brief moment of contempt for my friend, it was an awesome weekend, and I kind of wish my husband would agree to move to TN.

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