…err, does the Tuesday after a long weekend still count as a Marathon Monday? I think so. Especially because, welp, I ran 20 miles this weekend. And then drank enough chocolate milk to fill a bathtub. Except not my bathtub, because I was soaking my blisters in it.

It’s a bit strange, running 20 miles. You feel like there should be people cheering you on when you get home, or you should get a medal or at least get to run through finishing line tape with your hands clasped in the air. But really, it was just me and my two running buddies sweating and cursing and singing and playing I Spy to entertain ourselves through the miles.

I made up for the lack of fanfare by buying myself a massage. The masseuse commented on my bruised toes.