To 9 miles: I just made you mine. What whaaaaaat?

To the 15 mile an hour wind behind me that was so gusty it was curling around making me think the first half of my run was into the wind when it was in fact the second half that was straight into a headwind: You’re a horrible, horrible bitch

To September 16th: It’s still summer. 60F and a sunset before 7 is just not cool, Robert Frost. Ok. Technically it’s cool. But I still don’t like it.

To the 3 high school/college freshman who passed me: If there is no one else on the path and you pass so close to me that I feel a breeze and get a solid, slap-in-the-face whiff of your BO, you’re too close

To the guy who passed me, running in jeans: #RunningFoul!!!! That’s just not nice. I already feel so slow

To the makers of Body Glide, Kashi frozen meals, Pro Compression socks, Gu, and ice: I don’t know why you invented the products you did, but I love you. A lot

Not Pictured: The advil I took, the hot shower that thawed me out, and the foam roller my most awesome roommate loaned me. j/k I just realized the foam roller is in the picture. But I’m too sore to get up and move it. And I already finished dinner.

To Kingston Trio: Why couldn’t Charlie’s wife just pass him a nickel??? Or why couldn’t he sell the sandwich? In this same vein, if you’re riding through a dessert on a horse with no name, why don’t you name the horse? It’s not as if there’s anything else going on. (It’s the same vein because my uncle introduced me to the Kingston Trio recording of Charlie and the MTA and he has also pointed out that the dude should name the horse)

To the views of Boston running under the BU bridge and along the Esplanade: Please don’t ever ever change. You were especially fantastic while listening my Boston playlist, tonight.

To WPI: Thank you for being so awesome that you attracted both my best friend and me.

I think 15 seconds passed between when I sent this and she answered. I mean. Is she not a genius?

To the Red Sox: Why do you have the night off? I’m sitting here, barely moving on the couch and I have runners brain and can’t concentrate on a plot or you know, moving pictures on TV.

To the universe: Thanks for hiding my key in the grass when it fell out of my pocket while I did my pre-run stretch so I could find it when I finished and found out my key wasn’t in my pocket.

To my running group on facebook and pseudo IRL coach, Jennie: Thanks for helping me get over my pre-run freak-out.

Hearts and bags of ice!