Uhm, can I see what’s behind Door #2 please, Bob?
Those of you who know me personally know that I do not wear shorts. If you have seen me in shorts, it was by accident. I have been to Vegas in July and I didn’t bring shorts. DisneyWorld in late summer? No shorts. I wore them in a race once, but on race day I was the fittest I’d ever been. That lasted one day, until I drank a celebratory keg of beer and bucket of fries. On my honeymoon in Hawaii, I wore shorts because well, I was delirious with the joy of being a newlywed and I wore them in the kayak we rented because a skirt would have been lame. There is no photographic evidence of this short-wearing excursion.
Tonight, at our TNT workout, one of the captains hosted a drawing. All I had to do was bring a printout of my fund raising web page, and I was entered into the contest, to be held after we sweated buckets and pushed our bodies to the limit. Sweet!
At last, it was time for the drawing! (The suspens eis killing you, isn’t it?)
She announced the Third Prize winner, who wasn’t me. They received a TNT water bottle filled with goodies.
The Second Prize winner, who also wasn’t me, won a TNT towel and other goodies.
When she called the name for the Grand Prize (drumroll, please!) it was MY NAME! She called ME! I won! OMG! I won!
A pair of TNT shorts.