KeMa, don't be jealous (but thanks for the shout-out). I am taking a class. It started tonight. It's online, so for a change of pace, I'm sitting at my computer. The class is called "Get Funny," and it's offered through Greenfield Community College. I've wanted to take it for a while, but decided to wait until Babykins was waking up fewer than three times a night.

The first lesson was posted today -- a historical overview of humor writing. Good stuff. I have already completed my first assignment, because it was quiet in the house and I'm a dork. We were tasked with reading either Aristophanes (my comedy hero), Mark Twain, Oscar Wilde, Shakespeare's comedies, or the Norse or Icelandic Sagas. I read a bunch of Norse myths. You know what? They're funny! I wrote all about them with a spoiler warning on the class discussion board. You can read my little essay by clicking "more." (Don't want to bore the looky-loos.)   more »

What does PR stand for? Well, in this context, it stands for Personal Record. Maybe I should call it "PFR" so nobody gets confused by the fact that PR could also be Public Relations, which I also accomplish on a regular basis.

OK, anyway, about my P*F*R: Today I went to the track at another local college. Before I got there I was musing to myself that maybe I should try running five laps, all in a row, without stopping or walking. Prior to this, my record was four laps, aka one mile. And that was a few weeks ago, I think before my mom had her surgery.

So I got to the track, did my stretches, and started running and did not stop until a mile-and-a-quarter later.

Five laps! Let's see that in all caps: FIVE LAPS!!! That's more than one-twentysixth of a marathon, people. Another woman on the track cheered for me when I finished, and told me it was more than she could do.

(I was also inspired by Kris, who told me this morning that she's following my training log with great interest; I didn't even know that she lurks here. Thanks, Kris, for the boost. And for laughing at my proposed first line, should I ever do an open-mic stand-up comedy session. "Gleaning," indeed.)

It was fantastic. And I didn't even feel like I was going to die at the end of it -- in the middle of it, yeah, but I pushed through and kept running. Which is really what it's all about. Well, that and shin pain. I came home, chased down a couple of ibuprofen with a concoction of protein powder in milk, and took a loooong shower.