#67: Live In A Stanford Grad Dorm.
After finding out that living with a co-worker NEVER works out (Pro-tip: don’t live with people you work with.), I wheeled and dealed like a Las Vegas casino man to find my next place to call home. Where did I up at? A Grad Dorm. With no luck searching in San Francisco, I randomly replied to an apartment ad in a Stanford graduate dorm in Palo Alto. The ad was clearly meant for a guy, but I thought what the hell,…
#66: Bruise Your Ribs Before A Half-Marathon.
One could only imagine the sheer, agonizing pain of bruising a couple ribs. It hurts like hell. You feel like your insides have been scraped with a scalpel. You feel like you just got winded by RG3 on the NFL sidelines on an off-day. You probably have a new found appreciation for mothers in the delivery room. Worst part: Having no scratches, bruise marks, epic story or medicine to show for it… That was me…
#64: Run The Stanford Dish.
Feeling a little like Forrest Gump in this quick snapshot, yet still ran my little heart out nonetheless. The hills were a B$%TCH, but it felt good to reach the zenith and peer out to the entire Northern California countryside at eye level. Let’s see if we can keep this going on a regular basis. My fingers are crossed and my laces are double tied.
#63: Be A Kid Again At Great America.
Rachel and I were masters of the selfie and the kid rides.