To a runner, the letters DNF are the mark of doom. Or so I'm told. I've never had to admit that I did not finish a race. But I DNB-ed this weekend. Martini and I were going to run the Home Run for the Homeless 4-miler on Thanksgiving morning. That never happened. But, you see, we couldn't DNF because we never started the danged race in the first place. Didn't even register. Instead, we did not bother.
Thursday morning was ugly. Cold rain and cold coldness. And with a mere four hours of sleep and a slight hangover, a race was not something either of us wanted to do. So we scrubbed the mission and slept in.
However, I did confirm that I gained 10 pounds and I managed 20 miles for the week. Completing two of three weekend goals ain't bad. With or without my DNB.
Vanilla at Half-Fast was kind enough to link to me twice in the last week or so. I have been remiss in thanking him here. It just so happens that his post today is required reading for every Booze Hound teammate. This is how you take an ice bath.