It's probably just me, running ssssslooooooowllllly up a hill. Please don't call 911 -- my face is supposed to be this color. Really.

OK. So I've been running for nearly two years. I usually run alone, mostly on cross-country tracks or on the abandoned oil lease roads behind my house. This helps me preserve the illusion that I fleet, graceful, and swift. It's good for my self-esteem, anyway.

And then yesterday, I was passed on the track while I was running. By multiple people: By a group of young runners, four abreast, deep in conversation. (Yeah, yeah, yeah). by a young guy (OK, that one I expected). By a sorority girl in a designer outfit and perfect hair. (kind of a bummer, but still). By a middle-aged man with a beer belly. (dammit) And finally, by a mom pushing a baby in a stroller!!

Yeah. I wish I were kidding, too.

So, next week, I'm "running" the Redbud Classic (6.2 miles o' fun). And at the end of April, I'm entered in the Memorial half-Marathon (13 miles, but who's counting).

What the hell am I thinking, anyway?? Someone, anyone, please.....just point me in the direction of some good, strong anti-psychotics, 'kay?