The siren is the type of girl who stays awake long into the night for thought-provoking conversations, painting her feelings using ground coffee beans and lost dreams, and embarking on cannabis-infused sexual escapades. But be warned: you will probably have to go with her to the march to save fat squirrels, or whatever social justice crap she’s into that week.
It wasn’t easy. Sometimes, I felt my elbows revert to jogging elbows. But I re-focused and got back into my rhythm every time. I had some other struggles when I reached Chicago, such as bumping into people when I followed the lyrics of “slide to the left.” I felt self-conscious when I had to clap my hands in rapid succession – people definitely stared. Yet, through all those trials and tribulations, I persevered. When I completed those 26.2 miles, I cried tears of joy.
Sadly, there were no willing men and, more importantly, no willing sperm.