It seems, that somewhere between the first double IPA, and the second glass of wine, I agreed to run a 10K.
KK: "OMG. A 10K? That's like...I don't...how many miles is that?"
Again, math - not my strong suit.
MR. KK: "6 miles." And then he laughed a little. At me.
KK: "Well, that's just fabulous. I haven't run as far as the mailbox since September, and I'm supposed to just put my sneakers on and run 6 whole miles???"
MR. KK: "It's not until June. You can do it."
KK: "Why don't you run with me?"
I thought so.
I really shouldn't be drinking unsupervised.