So after the empowering exercise of completing a triathlon last weekend, I was admittedly cocky going into this morning's 5k run. Big mistake. I stunk up the joint. Really. I got smoked by an 8-year-old. (Although I'm insisting that the fact that he probably weighed less than half as much as me was a distinct advantage.) But really, there's no excuse.

I'm also thinking that kraut dog and chocolate empanada I had last night wasn't such a good idea.