I'm going to send a letter to Mr. Jim Morris, Bearer of Bad News from the Wampanoag Runners Club, to plead my case for a race shirt. I don't really need any more race shirts (my Target running "dresser" is overflowing), but it's the principle. Dammit. Janet.
Midday 6.35 miles in a windy 34 degrees. I actually had to remove large debris (recycling bins) from the road so cars wouldn't swerve to avoid the debris and hit the runner, me. Felt great throughout. Maybe those 2 days on the dreadmill weren't really that dreadful, after all.