What have I gotten myself into?

Tomorrow is the big marathon! And I totally can't believe I'm about to do this. What if I don't finish? I'll be the laughingstock of Gately villa! Just kidding. (Sort of.)

But I just want to thank everyone for all your well wishes and support...it means the world, and it will hopefully keep me going when the going gets tough. And thank you for all of your donations! I was able to raise over $1300 for Best Buddies so thank you so much for your generosity!

For those of you who are going to be out there in the elements cheering people on, I'm going to be wearing a black cap, a light blue jacket or a bright red long sleeve shirt with my name on the front (depending on the temp) and black capris. Oh. And cute Mizuno running shoes. They're pink!

Feel free to high five.

Rain rain everywhere, and not a drop to drink.

I feel like it hasn't stopped raining in months. We've had tornados, thunderstorms, and then your everyday torrential downpour. And when it's not raining it's cloudy, depressing, and about to rain.

I probably wouldn't care, except the last few warm days of fall were gray and mildewy, I have had to train consistently in waterfalls, and we need to get the roof fixed at the Michigan house because there is a leak that allows water to pour into our bedroom onto our bed whenever it rains.

It started out that it wasn't even really noticeable unless there was a ridiculous amount of rain, but because I have had all these roofers up there poking around estimating on jobs they will never apparently do, they seem to have actually exposed the "problem" area, so now every time it so much as mists, the pan we have on our bed fills up.

We literally have a pan on our bed.

Then, I had the embarrassment of asking the same guy to come out to estimate twice. Have you ever done this? You totally feel like a jerk.

And, of course, it's the one guy I really didn't like the first time. He showed up to estimate the roofing job in a three piece suit, and didn't even sort of come close to getting up to look at it (like every other roofer), I had to basically tell him what the problem was, at which point he said, "I think what your problem is, is..." and repeated what I had just said.

It only served to get worse when he stepped in an enormous pile of dog poop screeching like a little girl, basically accusing me of not cleaning up after our dogs as he scuffed and scuffed the bottom of his shoes in the grass in front.

First of all, it wasn't our dogs' poop (it was a present from our neighbors' roaming great dane...the same neighbors who like to light off M-80s two feet from our home under a canopy of trees) but he didn't believe me. Have you seen our dogs? They're like squirrels. It would take them a month to make that if I was feeding them nothing but McDonald's.

Second of all, his bids were completely outrageous. Over twice what we are paying. The second time, his estimate was about $200 lower, but still way off. (And I suspect he may have been trying to charge us for new shoes the first time.)

I think we have finally found a roofer now, but they can't fix it for weeks...Why, you ask? Because it won't stop raining. Aargh.

House of Cards

As a Chicago sports fan, and an ND fan, the sports seasons bring one consistent truth: If there is even a shred of hope...it will be taken from me at some point, generally in a cruel manner, right around the time I really start to think there's a chance. I ask, "Could they really could be that good?" and get my answer. No. And it happens every single year. (You Boston fans used to know what I'm talking about.)

It's a missed pass interference call by the blind ref. Or their QB's fumble that suddenly becomes a TD. Or some stupid kid in a green sweatshirt with earphones on. It doesn't matter who I end up blaming it on...every season, I watch, tense, sick to my stomach, eyes covered, screaming at the TV, knuckles bloody from knocking on wood at the announcers' stupid jinxing comments...and then boom. Crushing disappointment... again...and a throbbing in my head that I'm sure must be a tumor.

So when the Bears were losing to the Cardinals last night, it felt like...well...almost like an old friend. I mean, this is Chicago, and someone said they were "the team to beat." So why wouldn't they play like some third-string practice team from Crapsville Middle School?

But then the Bears started to randomly come back, from freak plays, fumbles, punt returns. And that's when I went into shock. What happened??? It doesn't matter. I don't care. I don't care that they did it by the hairs on their chinny chin chin, it was awesome!

I do feel bad for Matt Leinart, the Cardinals' QB. I mean, he played his little heart out, he had a great game, and I can't imagine how he must feel. Oh...hmmm...wait a second.

Go Bears!