I COULD post the straight on picture of Jesse and me crossing the finish line. The one showing us behind a lady twice our age who’s not even breaking a sweat, seemingly walking across the finish. She’s looking off in the distance,
breathing in the (thin) spring air as if thinking “I’m glad I got up this morning and decided to do this on a whim.” We’re behind her, red faced and struggling. I COULD post that picture but I won’t. Instead I’m posting this shot. It shows us crossing the finish sort of easy breezy, dozens of our personal fans cheering us on with the wind in our hair. Instead of flaming red, in
shadow my face shows a natural flush. Jesse jogs effortlessly, I'm floating. It’s as though we got up that morning and decided “Let’s drive across Iowa and Nebraska for a 7am run in Colorado and then turn around and drive right back."
I COULD post the straight on picture of Jesse and me crossing the finish line. The one showing us behind a lady twice our age who’s not even breaking a sweat, seemingly walking across the finish. She’s looking off in the distance, 
breathing in the (thin) spring air as if thinking “I’m glad I got up this morning and decided to do this on a whim.” We’re behind her, red faced and struggling. I COULD post that picture but I won’t. Instead I’m posting this shot. It shows us crossing the finish sort of easy breezy, dozens of our personal fans cheering us on with the wind in our hair. Instead of flaming red, in shadow my face shows a natural flush. Jesse jogs effortlessly, I'm floating. It’s as though we got up that morning and decided “Let’s drive across Iowa and Nebraska for a 7am run in Colorado and then turn around and drive right back."
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