A Chilly Sallie Mae 10K

Oh it is a cold morning to be in race shorts. With a chilly breeze cutting through thin licra, teeth are chattering more than feet are running- for now.

In moments there will be a few thousand runners streaming down Ohio Avenue for a six mile log. Before them we wait.

Waiting to find a parking space. Waiting for our race packet. Waiting for the toilet. And now waiting for the race.

Wish us luck. We will need it.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

Married, mortgaged, and soon to be a father, Wayan Vota is in the fast lane to mid-life respectability – until the day his brood finds his intimate journal of global traveling and curses him with the ever-eternal reply “I’m gonna be just like you, Dad!”

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