97% of the time I hate my race photos. Or, I think they’re really funny. I always look considerably dorkier than I feel. I’m just glad the photos aren’t scratch and sniff because…oh, lordy. Just because.
These are from my half marathon last weekend.
I like this picture because I am winning the race:
This picture reminds me that I should be running shirtless like the cool kids. Or, at the very least, be shielding myself from people who are running shirtless beside me and exuding buckets of sweat. I should have tweaked his nipple. Or least pulled out a chest hair with my teeth.
Oh, I’m sorry. Am I boring you? Or maybe you’re worried you won't beat the cheetah. Grrrwlll.
This picture proves that if only I was four seconds faster I would be beating the guy in the headband. For some reason, this makes me think of Bacon.
This is the start of the race and clearly I am distracted. What? Who farted? Nope, wasn’t me. Nope. Nope. It must have been that guy to my left wearing his race day t-shirt. Who does that? I do like the shirt the girl has on behind me though.
Stupid headband guy. Doesn't even look like he’s wearing pants. He should be disqualified.
This reminds me. The other day I got an email from my friend Clair aka Queen La Queefa. This was the subject line: “I love my hair and my face.” I opened the attachment to see this – Clair running a 10K:
Clair’s words: “I wish they’d stop trying to sell me this shit.”
I think the photographer captured perfectly the moment when Clair hated running.
Do you ever buy your race photos? Me? Never. Except my first marathon because you have to no matter how dorky you look.
Do you ever stalk people by looking at their race photos? Yes. I have done this once or twice. Or 90 times.