Cute blonde, her face redder than any face should be.
Heel, toe, heel, toe, her feet pound the pavement in an almost-rhythm.
There are 2 things keeping her from dying: water and WHAM.
This is what she calls "running" though few would recognize it as such.
There are two reasons in this world why such a girl would be running, and since there is no big hairy monster chasing her with, she must be Running For The Cure.
That's right. Impossible as it may seem, I will be running in support of the Breast Cancer Foundation, and I would really appreciate your support. We all love boobs, and the ladies attached to them. I love them so much that I'm willing to completely humiliate myself in public by "running like a girl" with a paper number pinned to my chest, so I'm thinking the least you could do is donate a few dollars.
You with me?
Because honestly, it really would mean a lot to me. And it would mean more than a lot to 22 000 Canadian women about to be diagnosed with breast cancer this year.
To go the extra mile, I offer you this:
No matter which way you've chosen, please send me an accompanying email to identify yourself because I do plan on expressing inappropriate amounts of thankfulness for every dollar raised.
Now, the donating part is easy (I'm sponsoring Jason). The running part scares me. I mean, you remember how sucky I am at running, right? So it would be a big help if you'd leave some sort of encouraging message like "it probably only feels like you're dying" and "blisters look cute on you".
And I promise you that if nothing else, there will be a very entertaining post about my attempt at running on October 1st, if I live to write about it.
Thank you in advance.