Hitting 20 and More Bread

Hello. My name is Hannah, and I ran 20 miles today.
...
I ran 20 freakin' miles today! Holy Grilled Cheezus!
(I'm allowing myself to say that, I ran 20 miles today.) Here's the proof:

Yeah, I ended up going at almost a 10 minute mile pace while two weeks ago I ran 19 miles at a 9:30 pace, but I don't care. I could have probably walked the last mile, and gone faster than I was going. But I don't care. I wanted to continuously run for 20 miles, and I did.

Why does 20 miles seem like such a big deal anyway? I mean, I ran 19 miles two weeks in a row, 20 is just one more mile. It's different somehow though. 20 miles is how much you're supposed to go before a marathon. Sure, you can go more than that, but at least 20 miles is what most training schedules tell you to do for your longest run. I ran that.

So... Yeah. Pretty pumped about that. Also, it used to gross me out whenever I'd get really salty after runs. This was after races in high school mind you. Now after my long runs, I look at the side of my face seeing what appears to be someone dumping salt on the side of my face and thinking, "Holy crap! Cool!" I think this is just another thing that makes me officially a runner. Or maybe I'm just a dude in the body of a girl. Naw, I don't like bodily functions humor.


There was a lot more salt before this.

Since I don't understand the meaning of a nap, I've been doing things around the house. I suppose some of the doing things around the house involves acting like the hedonism bot and chilling.

Replace grapes with craisins, and you've got me.

I am baking some bread! Yeah, yeah. There are some strawberries in our house that need to be used, so I browsed the pages of my Bread Bible and found a recipe involving strawberries.

That's not for strawberry smashing! Ah well.

It smells AMAZING. Really, it's more like strawberry cake. I'm taking it up with me to my cousins as soon as it's done.

One thing I've noticed about my bread baking endeavours is that I'm the only one who ever eats my bread. Sad. I know that my mom won't because she's eating healthy foods (that don't involve bread), but what about my dad? Does he think I'm trying to hoard it for myself? Or it could be that he's scared of my cooking. I don't know. I know last year for Christmas I made him food as a gift, and he never ate it.

So, if for some reason you're at my house and I have some bread made up, feel free to eat some! Although I don't know who out there would be at my house. Hm.

Hit any big goals lately? Do people act weird around certain foods you make?