Old Balls. Gross.

I am now 29 years of age. I bet nobody thought I would survive my teenage years, nevermind college, so HA! In your face! I made it! I'm almost 30!

Old balls. For reals.

My age has never really bothered me...all my friends, for my whole life, have always been older than me, so I have never felt old...because I'm always younger than SOMEBODY at the party. The fact that I can barely get into an R-rated movie or buy paint is just icing on that birthday cake.

All is well and good until all my old friends start dropping like flies and I am a lonely old hag, but until that day, I will relish my place as the spring chicken.

Alas, my 29th birthday was Saturday (it was very fun - my family came in town, we sat in the field, played games and drank wine - gotta love dem folks)and on Sunday, I started feeling old. Around 8PM, I looked at Tommy and said, "I'm going to bed...my back hurts and I'm tired".

In my defense, I did ride my bike for 3 hours that day (for the first time in 4 months), but nonetheless, I think this is my first sign of aging. I'm old balls. Gross.

So, thanks to all of you who kept me young for so long...the joyride is over. Let the aging begin.

Happy freaking birthday to me.

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In other news, I ran the Bayou City Classic 10K on Saturday and PR'ed by 4 minutes (my PR was slow, but whatever!)...I crossed that finish line in 50:33 (average pace of 8:10) and was 12th in my age group (of about 200). My goal was to break 50 minutes, and if I hadn't gotten so freaking thirsty and walked through all the water stops, I definitely would have made it...lesson learned. Game, set, match. Deyhration, here I come.