Tomorrow morning my friend Crazy – oops, I mean Cyndi – will be boarding a plane to fly to AZ to run a half-marathon. I’d fly to Arizona in the winter for a lot of reasons, but running surely is not one of them, even if it is for a good cause.

This loony has gotten up at dead-o’clock in the morning for five months to train, starting out as a non-runner. Some of us try the Couch-to-5k thing. Not this stubborn one. It blizzards and she runs. H. Pimp threatens to hit her with his car and she runs. She’s tired, she’s sore, she’s worn out and she still runs. She only paused to catch her breath when she developed shin splints so badly she could hear her tibia cracking. That’s a whole lot of commitment in my book.

So on Sunday morning when you roll out of bed, slurp some coffee and eat a cinnamon roll, think of Cyndi as she begins her three hour run. That’s nuts.

But it’s just another example of her strength, and I’m proud of her.

Everyone wish this mama good luck!

ETA: She did it! CONGRATS!