Give me a T! Give me an R! Give me a ... Oh, Nevermind

Yesterday, I was whining to Elisa about my many troubles — both the self-imposed, like Triathablog and Nanowrimo — and the misfortunes, like layoffs at work, and the fact that my Vespa is laying hopelessly at Bogart's Motorsports (its parts strewn across their garage for who knows how long).

"Why does God hate me?" I asked. "WHY don't I have a boyfriend?!"

You might say that having a boyfriend has little to do with running or Triathablog, not to mention scooter repair and cutbacks at work. You could point out that dating might actually make me more busy and more stressed. And, I'll admit, you'd have a logical point.

But I'm a single woman living in a post-Bridget Jones world. To me, one way or another, all troubles revolve around being single (or at least are made worse by this fact).

Elisa's response? "I don't think you want a boyfriend, necessarily. You just want someone on your team. Someone to say you had a good run, and to tell you your novel is awesome, and that the people at Bogart's are jerks." (She didn't say jerks, but I'm making this PG.) "Someone to give you a hug when you're tired."

You know, I think Elisa's right. I don't need a boyfriend. I need a CHEERLEADER.

I need someone to wave pompoms next to me on the trail. Someone to chant, "Two, Four, Six, Eight, Triathabloggers are so great!" (Or maybe something more creative.) Someone to leave cookies in my locker!

Alas, I don't think it's happening any time soon. (That's probably for the best — being followed around by a girl in a short skirt might get weird.) For now, I appreciate the little things, like my friends Kevin and John telling me that running three miles IS a big deal and something to be proud of, or Amanda and Elisa "listening" via email to boring running stories too dull to post, or readers and friends who leave comments or tell me in person that they enjoy the blog.

Just so you know, every time you leave a comment or a compliment, it's like you're giving us a little cheer. That means a lot to us — who needs pompoms? (Although, if anyone wants to do a human pyramid sometime, that might be nice.)