Ah...so the pic to your right is what I see when I am almost done with my long run. What is it? It is my hydration pack and tank top hanging on the signpost for the "Franklin River Crossing"...which is kinda funny cause the "crossing" is for a "river" that is maybe 2 feet across, and the "river" itself is the remnants of Pleistocene Lake Franklin (i.e. a REALLY long time ago....like around 10,000 years). But this is the desert, and anything with water in it even if there hasn't been a rainstorm gets called a river.

Where was I? Oh yeah, the pack and tank top. For every long run I plan it so that the start of my last two miles coincides with this handy sign post. Gives me a chance to take a little longer break, strip off the pack (woohoo!), strip down to the jog bra and eke out the last two miles. I so utterly look forward to this moment...and OF COURSE this is the time that some rancher will drive up and ask if everything is OK (i.e. "Got troubles?", which makes me feel like a fat tub of lard lumbering through the landscape...clearly if I LOOKED like a runner they would be saying "Doing good!" or "Nice run!". But no, evidently I look in pain (cause I am) and lost (cause I wish I were).

Somehow...through sheer fear of next week's 22 mile run, I am sure...I managed to squeeze 20 miles out of myself. When we got home we rode bikes to the County Fair to watch the horse races (and drink whiskey, virtually required ya know), then we walked over to the pizza joint and I GORGED myself on pizza...think I may have the carbo-load thing reversed, but after 20 miles who really cares????

Marathon is looming in the not so far distance. Last year I finished in 5 1/2 hours...hoping like hell this year will be different. Let's be honest though, hoping doesn't get us very far, does it. Need to focus!!