Duh. It's UTAH.

He's married. Clearly, I forgot that this is Utah, the state where being single at 24 causes such concern among your neighbors, grandmothers and Elders Quorum/Relief Society President that they they hold Interventions and ask pointed questions about your plans for the future, ability to catch a mate and, if they're really brave, your orientation.

So RHGIMBRC . . . married. Lame. No ring though. Curse you, Married Guy (his new, more appropriate name, out of respect for his ridiculously lucky wife), curse you!! What are you thinking, running around here, all ringless and stuff? Holy whip, I sound crazy. Imagine that...

For those of you who may have checked in earlier, you perhaps noticed some jibberish that roughly resembled the first paragraph of this post. Note to self : no more blogging from the iPhone. Sorry. You probably thought I'd lost my mind. Which, hello, that was like, so long ago. Where have you been? It's been years since I've seen that thing.

I'm supposed to get up and run tomorrow -- first day in a while since I've been nursing my very first Sports Injury. Yep. Me. Who knew. I've been sad (honestly, I swear it) because I really was in a groove of sorts with the running thing but also kind of proud of myself. For a minute there, it was kind of like I was an actual athlete. Pathetic, isn't it? Likely the closest I'm ever going to get to feeling like an athlete? Ice packs.