1. I’m very slow moving. 9117th place out of 10412 runners. I’m afraid to think of how I’ll do at age 60.

2. Overly peppy people that are cheering from the sidelines help me run faster out of anger and avoidance of their lazy, fat, asses. I now feel bad for being overly peppy when I cheer runners at the Boston Marathon.

4. As each of these types of people beat me in a race, I die a little inside:

• People in ridiculous costumes
• People twice my age and above
• People who are drunk while running
• Children

5. The people listed above don’t enjoy being cursed at while on a race.

6. Running a race of which I barely have the physical capacity to run is challenging. Running most of that race uphill is soul-crushing.

7. I don’t ever want to die of thirst.

And now, some photographic documentation of said race:

My carbo-loaded meal of pasta, tuna, and greenbeans from the night before.

Artist’s tape to hold up my bib. Very ghetto.

The finish line that seemed to never get closer.

Statistically, nine out of 10 of these people beat me. Try to feel good about yourself after that.

At least we finished happy.