We are emerging from the haze of sickness, and Shef was well enough to spectate at the Twin Cities Marathon today.

Good pal Jess schooled him in the art of a good cheer, and we heartily applauded runners all morning.



While urging on this year's crew, Jessie and I couldn't help but think back over our own marathoning ventures. Despite the obvious downsides to an hours-long run -- Jessie remembers telling her dad that she was "fucking dying" when she crossed the Franklin Street Bridge, for instance -- we both expressed a desire to sally forth from the starting line again someday.