I was sitting at Chic-Fil-A this afternoon with my friend, we’ll call her Alaska, when Zack called me to see if I’d heard from the doctor yet.

I told Zack, among other things that, “The doctor said the sonogram was clear and the blood work was normal.”  We finished our conversation, I hung up the phone and went back to eating.  That’s when I noticed that Alaska was sitting drop-jawed across the table from me.

I looked at her as if to say, “What?”
She said, “HOW DID I NOT KNOW THAT YOU ARE PREGNANT?”

Funny, cause it really sounds that way, right?  But no.  I’m not pregnant.  Neither do I have cancer nor any other distinguishable disease that explains all the pain I was in for the 3 days immediately after Sunday’s race.  My doctor seems to be satisfied by my lack of any obvious disease coupled with my diminished pain, and has called off the search for The Reason.  I was annoyed at first, but Alaska’s comment has given me some perspective.

I might not know what the hell was wrong with me, but hey, at least I’m not pregnant.

Note: There’s a lot of talk happening in the comments section.  Just FYI.