31:06

Yesterday morning I ran my first race since becoming a born-again runner. It was the Castle Rock Stake's 6K, and a great time was had by all that survived.

For those of you unfamiliar with running terms, 6K is short for 6 Klondikes. Back in the gold rush of the late 1800s a group of 100 unshaven, unbathed men headed towards California with one goal and one goal only; to create a new running race. Only six survived. Actually, all 100 survived, it's just that faced with the decision of either creating a new race or becoming millionaires, 94% followed the money.

There were about 40 of us at the race, including three streakers. I was surprised by the level of runners our stake has. Bro Pyfer, his wife and their nine-year-old son were there. Bro Washburn was there, too. I'm terrible with names, so I couldn't name another person that was there, but I do know the guy in the high council that always talks about baseball was the organizer. A young guy won the race. He just moved here from Vegas a few weeks ago.

I'm looking forward to my next race almost as much as Chanel was looking forward to the next Harry Potter. She was one of the devoted fans that bought the book at midnight, and she brought Julia with her so she could be exposed to the thrill and excitement that surrounds HP. She rushed home, blogged about the book-buying experience, then read until a crazy hour of the evening/morning. When I got home from my race this is what I found:

My exhausted readers. I love them.