As undesirable mail goes, it’s on par with my utility bill after an “unseasonably warm” summer. An audit letter from the IRS. The
Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition.
My photo proofs from the Peachtree.
Generally, I avoid photos of myself, both being in and looking at them. And normally I’d run shuddering from any photo of me in short shorts taken after 1983. Yet, not only did I look at these pictures, I actually bought one.
Yes, bought one. Spent money. Four of my much-beloved lattes worth, in fact. Lattes with the soy milk.
Why? So I could post it here.
(Well, not here here, because that would be just too cruel to anyone who stumbled across this post through a random Google search. No one should have to see that without fair warning.)
But here in the pictures section as part of my log. Photographic documentation. Something I can look back on that shows the progress I’ve made physically. Something to remind me how miserable I was in that 10K and to realize how far I’ve come once I finish the next.
And — perhaps most important of all — something to point out why I should never ever wear those running shorts again.
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