Today, I’m 32. Or, as I like to say, I’m celebrating the seventh anniversary of my 25th birthday.

But, here’s the thing — I don’t mind being another year older. I mean, yeah, I’d be okay if certain parts of me, like my boobs and metabolism, were still 22, but overall, I like where I am. I’ve lived through enough sadness* to truly appreciate the happiness, I spent enough time working for peanuts that I still get giddy over being able to purchase something nice without saving for a year (not that I can do it often, but it happens). I’ve got enough life under my belt to feel worthy of respect, but young enough to know that I have a lot more to do and see and learn. Yeah, I’m okay with it.

To kick off 32, I’m having dinner with Jared and some friends tonight, and, on Sunday, I’m running a half marathon. Oh, did you forget about that? Because, believe you me, I haven’t. I’ve been working my ass off to get ready for it, but — get this — I’ve kind of loved it. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve made good use of my vast store of running buddies, or because I’ve taken the pressure off in terms of pace (I’m taking a cue from Susan and mostly aiming not to die, but other than that, I just want to beat the time of the only other one I’ve ever done, which was just under 2:30). I actually have a decent amount of confidence that I can do that. Either way, it’s definitely been an enjoyable training journey.

And if I can’t meet my goal, there will still be beer at the end, so, you know, there’s that.


*Thank you all for your comments (here and on Facebook and Twitter and via text and email) about Meeko. Your support has been an enormous help.

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