Meet Hayden.

Oh little brother, how I love you.

This video was taken after our family reunion weekend in SoCar- South Carolina (haa, I crack myself up) so he was clearly tired and actually loves running, and will be running the Turkey Trot with me, right Hayden?

I love Gaffney (population: the Phillips family), but I'm not sure if I could live there. The weekend involved...

Muscadines (pronounced scuppernogs by the local folk) which are addicting and give you the worst stomach ache if you eat too many. Believe me, this comes from personal experience. The problem is, it happens every family reunion because they are so good that I have to keep eating them. I'm trying to live a life of moderation, but the muscadines are just one example of problem areas. Others include, cereal at breakfast, lunch, and dinner and my ability to stay up all night watching True Life. Oh, and 7 to 8 Diet Cokes per day.

Kentucky Fried Chicken (We went to pick up the KFC and two guys had to wheel a dolly out to the car with the chicken because we (aka my sister, Ashleigh) ordered a billion buckets.

Lunch and breakfast at Cracker Barrel. When you go to Cracker Barrel you must rock in a rocking chair, play checkers, play the annoying table game over and over again and lose over and over again, eat a biscuit, and get a piece of lemon icebox pie. EXCEPT this time of year they do not serve lemon icebox pie. lame.

Gladiator. The movie. So good.

Family. I love my Phillips fam.

And

Running. Impressive huh? Yeah, I didn't think I was actually going to do it either. But, I did. Four miles at four in the morning in the frigid cold. Not really, but I like alliterations. Actually, it was four miles at 7:30 in the semi-frigid cold. But that just doesn't sound as good phonetically or literally.

I walked out of the hotel and turned left. In around 2 minutes I was running past pastures and cows (milking a cow is on my bucket list, but I didn't want to screw up my normal 6 min/mile pace so I kept going) and bales of hay and Laura Ingalls Wilder and little houses on the prairie. It was pretty cold when I started running, but I eventually got use to the cooler weather. What I did not get use to was the hills. It was hilly.

When I started off, this kind of sketchy guy (long black trench coat, black du-rag) was smoking a cigarette by the side of the road. At this point I was going down hill so I ran by somewhat quickly and repeated 'eyes and throat, eyes and throat' (self defense lingo) incase I was attacked from behind. Fortunately, "Love Story" by Taylor Swift was not interrupted and I continued on. Thirty or so minutes later, I'm running the other way past this same point and the trench coat du-rag guy is still there! I was kind of an anxious kid and can still make myself pretty distressed- watch this...

'Oh my gosh, he's still there! He for sure wants to attack me, but he was just waiting for me to come back because he wanted me to be more tired so I couldn't fight him off. He also probably has weapons hiding in his trench coat and has thought of a plan for when I came back this way. He has stopped smoking because he wants both hands free to grab me and drag me off. No matter how hard I scream no one will hear me because we are in the middle of nowhere. This is how all horror movies start, a happy, carefree, morning run during a family reunion in a small peaceful town. And horror movies are just like real life. I'm never going to see my family again! or my friends! or eat muscadines! or eat cereal! or drink diet coke! I will no longer live my life of failed moderation!!1!!1one!!1'

... So, I ran. Hard. Up hill. For my last half mile. And ended at the front of the hotel- sweaty and exhausted and panting, but alive. And, with a new fervor for life, I walked inside and ate the complimentary breakfast. yum.