Gobble, gobble.

On Thanksgiving morning, I ran in Salt Lake’s annual 6k “Cold Turkey Run” with Amy (my sister), James (my brother), Sarah (my friend), and Rachel (my friend) along with 995 other participants. It was so fun (painful)!
We started up at the Capitol building and went down into City Creek Canyon and then back through the canyon ending just below the Capitol. We all started together then broke into our own pace. I was going swift and steady (last).
I decided to do the race because I was excited to generate a proud feeling of accomplishment (my sister told me to do it).
As I ran (hobbled) along, I paused every so often to appreciate the beauty of my surroundings (I ran into a tree). I also enjoyed the crisp Utah breeze (icy death-fingers) and the stream (standing water) at the bottom of the canyon (it smelled like a urinal). The tingling (horrible burning) in my muscles as I crossed the finish line let me know that I had accomplished something worthwhile (I wanted to die).
All in all, a good (satanic) tradition.