Y'all. Listen to this.

I was going to keep quiet about this but I can't help myself any more. This afternoon a photographer from the Ann Arbor News is meeting me in Chelsea to take my picture, dressed in full running gear, for the Thanksgiving edition front page feature story.

So what in the world is going on? Well, on Saturday I saw a tiny little blurb buried at the bottom of the News in Brief page that asked for personal stories from people who are especially grateful for something this Thanksgiving. I thought, man, if there was ever a year for which I am thankful, it has to be this one, and it's all due to the wonderful woman who performed my surgery back in February. I sent an email to the woman who is writing the story, an email which included:

The surgery was a complete success and after my recovery period was over I flung myself with everything I had into my new life, a life I had almost lost sight of before surgery. I lost 30 pounds, started running, and in October I completed the Detroit Half Marathon. I feel more vibrant and energetic than I ever have in my entire life, and next month I will be 34.

She wrote back, we talked about running and such, and lo, this afternoon I will be standing in the cemetery in Chelsea (my favorite place to run) in my running outfit, which includes a free shirt from Running Fit. I went there yesterday ostensibly to pick up a pair of nice warm gloves (check) and nice warm hat (check) but also to casually mention that I was going to be photographed for the paper in my running clothes and I really wanted to wear something from RF with their name on it...since it's my favorite store and all...free publicity...hence, free shirt. Thank you, Victor!

Thursday, Ann Arbor News, front page. Me. Holy crap!

(By the way, my face is in a state of extreme pimpliness the likes of which I haven't seen in years. I don't know what happened but I am leaving work at 3:00 today to go home and plaster on as much foundation as my skin can handle. Stupid zits. You'd think they would go away by the time you hit your thirties. Bah humbug!)