This time Sunday I’ll be sore.  This time Sunday I’ll be crawling. This time Sunday I’ll be drinking.  This time Sunday I’ll be eating, eating whatever I want, soiled in urine and feces (possibly someone else’s).  Why you ask?  Well you nosy little b!tch…..I will have completed a marathon and can go back to being my fat, alcoholic self.  At least I have an excuse.