I have to admit it: I was not excited about Houston. The rest of the stopping points on our trip evoke a little ooh or ahh, but Houston...eh. It made me so non-plussed that I actually said "eh."

So I decided a week or so ago to reframe Houston. Yes, I realized that I needed an attitude adjustment when it came to Houston, and that's when I registered for the 5 mile race.

Maybe a 5 mile race sounds like punishment -- as if I was angry at Houston and in some twist of logic decided to take it out on myself.

But for me, a 5 mile race was a chance to see a different side of Houston...and by that I mean, not the Galleria Mall and not anything directly off I-10.

This morning as I was running -- I did 5 miles in 42:30 -- I found out that Houston has some beautiful parks. Hermann Park, where the race ended, reminds me of Forest Park in St. Louis, and you know, oddly enough, downtown Houston reminds me of downtown Kansas City.

It seems my mind wants to connect Texas with Missouri.

As I was running, I said "Hi!" to pretty much every police officer I passed. And they closed off a lot of streets for this race, so there were a lot of officers on the route.

Every one of the officers responded to my very chirpy, very bright "Hi!" with a "Good mornin'." Some even added "miss."

I felt very much like I was in the South then, what with their drawl of "Good mornin'" that sounded more like "Guh mawnin'."

It also made me want to burst into "Good Morning" from Singin' in the Rain, but I refrained. Showtunes have their place -- actually in my world, they have many places -- but seeing as my life isn't actually a muscial, I should probably avoid singing showtunes at non-sequitur moments, such as while running in Houston.

Instead, I listened to This American Life.

I know Oesa already showed you pictures of me running / me looking skeptically at a beer (and that's how I always look at it, regardless of whether I've just run a race), but here's one more picture of me looking race-y (and yes, I know what I just said).

Stretching after the race, which translates to trying to look cool, hold my water bottle, and not fall over. Actually, the more I look at this picture, the more weirded out I get by my leg.