First person to guess what town he goes to school in gets a virtual high-five from me. Here's a hint: Take the Pennsylvania turnpike untily you are in the middle of nowhere. Then go north for about 90 minutes.
I am out here until Wednesday morning when I have to wake up at the crack and make a mad dash back to Philadelphia to get to work before noon. Fun times.
Fortunately there's a small but fun trail network within running distance of his apartment and a state park about 20 minutes away where we are going to run later today so all is not lost. Plus there's a small running store across the street from his place called The Gingerbread Man. The store's motto? "You can't catch me." How adorable is that?
|Unlike the rest of his cohort (why, when you you get to the PhD level,|
must you call your class a cohort?) Bill shows up for school ready to paddle.
When I saw him yank a carbon paddle out of his trunk I became concerned that he truly has his heart set of us crossing the start line (and, I guess, he hopes that we will also cross the finish line) of this. I think he might be trying to kill me with exercise. It will be, by far, the longest race I've ever tried. Two nights in the woods -- I am more worried about the fact that I love sleep immensely than I am about the fact that I am not sure if I can keep moving for 48 hours.
P.S. Yes, Bill does live above the county's GOP headquarters. But he also lives above a bakery so it all evens out.