Udderly amazing to get moo-ving toward this quaint finish line one more time before they put this race out to pasture. SO many comments, hoof bumps, saying I totally should win the costume contest (there wasn’t one), and saying I looked cute, even sexy! Like, me, not my tractor? Um, OK. Hey, quit looking at my udders. It was a day to turn my hide medium-well with maybe a mile total in the shade. (She’s even kinda crazy ’bout my farmer’s tan.) The rare and legendairy hospitality of the QHR church community will be missed. Skipped the hamburger line because I would have felt weird eating one of my friends today. Ten years ago, almost to the day, since I started my half marathoning at this very race, and much as I gripe after each one, hoping it’ll be far from my last.
