odds and gobs

Today as I rolled up to my parents' house a half hour after my latest projected arrival time, I thought to myself, I must be part Italian (they're infamously late, right?) My mom said, Mmm, or just an Adams.
But I had been thinking of my invariable draw toward lateness; that is, the fact that I'm always late, and I thought, I either need to get it together and start being on time, or go with it and stop apologizing. If I'm going to keep showing up late to everything, I ought to just show up late with nary a word about it and stop perpetually making excuses. I mean, quirks can be charming, endearing, or at least interesting--whereas apologies indicate wrongdoing, and there is nothing loveable about that. But, I apologize anyway. I'm late; I don't mean to be, but I am. I'm also disorganized, lethargic, and--on occasion--bitingly sarcastic. I apologize, until in the end I apologize for my very existence, a thing I cannot help. That's the Scandinavian in me, not the Italian.
But I'm trying to stop apologizing and just go with it. I'm late. If you can't wait, go on without me, I won't be offended.
I ran a half-marathon on Saturday with my sister-in-law (when I saw that she blogged about it, I figured I'd better too.) It was a lot of fun. I never run with anyone, partly because those things are difficult to arrange, and it's hard to find someone with the same pace as you. I enjoy running alone, so I never trouble about looking for a running partner anyway. But it was uncanny, my sister-in-law (Kirstin, for further reference) and I went exactly the same pace. We stayed together the first 6 miles or so; then I stopped to fill my water, which took exactly a minute, and I remained from there until the end exactly one minute behind Kirstin (about 15o to 200 yards). I was afraid to sprint and catch up, and get too pooped out, because I had to run additional miles after the half-marathon to keep up with my full marathon training. In the end, I did 20 miles, which went super-duper well, and left me feeling very encouraged about my training. I also beat my 1/2 marathon time from last year, and did it in about 2:15:50-somethingish. I do wish I'd have picked it up a little and caught up with Kirstin, though, because I had more fun running with her the first half than I did alone the last half.
On a related note, it's always interesting to see who comes in behind you and who comes in in front of you in a race. You'll see at the beginning a girl in her 20's who is fit and lean, and dressed in authentic running clothes, and you think, This is the last time I'll see her, because she's going to fly down the trail. And it is the last time you see her until the end, because she comes in a good five minutes after you. But then there's a woman in her late forties, with short-shorts and fat, jiggly thighs, a big old white T-shirt and a stupid fanny-pack, and she passes by you during the last 100 yards and beats you! Gah! Well, bless her heart, she is in fact my hero.
Well, I've got to go to the zoo in the morning (sigh, I can't even pretend to feel sorry for myself. I love the zoo) so I'd better get to bed. Just wanted everyone to know I'm alive and well here in MariannaLand. Still perpetually late. Still morbidly afraid of keeping in touch with people. Still secretly wishing I was cool enough to be one of Charlie's Angels. Or at least Bosley.