...on the catwalk yeah.

It frustrates me that our story starts as so many do at 71st and Memorial. Seems to me more of them should start at say 41st and ... Harvard. But it happens that the prior is the location of a place called Kosmo's. The people watching there is first rate(and then some). The menu is different. But most importantly the bartender pours the single malt scotch well and doesn't charge the kind of prices that would require him to wear name brand socks. All of this conspires to bring enterprising young men to said watering hole on the occasional Friday after work junket. Yeah, well let's just pretend you didn't notice the use of the word young. Usually one or two will do. And if they were ever gonna have more than two, well obviously the time to do that would be on a Friday before a short Saturday run. Because Prudence would never allow one to overindulge before the longest Satuday morning run of ones life. And, if Prudence had been on duty that fateful eve, our story would have surely ended there. Alas four scotches later and a round of I got a grill and another bottle of Scotch, I'll buy the steaks, Hey how bout some Cigars! The next think ya know, we're drunk, miserable stuffed, someone's house stinks like smoke and it's go home or start callin girls who undoubtedly will not find us as charming as we're pretty sure we should be considered. This is when I finally man up and say what shoulda been said hours ago, I gotta run sixteen miles in ... crap... five and a half hours! I think we need a Thursday night program about the proper balance of sleep, ibuprofen, and hydration therapy before a run. I went with half a bottle, two ibuprofen for every hour of sleep. Then wooo hooo it's 4:45, let's go. I was impressed with the turnout. I try not to expect turnout based on sensical things like weather, temperature, time. No, I'm more me centric. I feel like crap, I expect to see a grand total of five people. I feel good, I expect thousands to show up for the purpose of entertaining me. In retrospect, I'm proud for everyone who came out to prove me wrong. So we ran. Then at Runners World, we hung a right and ran some more. I hurt. Considered blowing chow repeatedly. Except when we passed the place on brookside that smelled good. Some bakery type place. Did ya''ll get a wiff of that. I'm gonna start carrying money. So we ran some more, hurt some more, came to a casino, once again I need some money. I'm starting to think this is too much. A marathon is too much. I'm tired, I hurt, I wanna go to bed. That's why when I got here...
I quit. I'm done. Finito, I'm not coming back. Everyone seemed pretty okay with it. Course ya ain't quit till yer gone. So we gotta run the eight bloody miles back to the truck so I can get gone. (From what I understand those wearing garmins noticed it was eight plus miles back to the truck.) Lemme tell ya, that little joke is getting even older than my "gettin back to the truck thing". So we ran facing the other direction for a while. Right about the bathrooms on the Tue/Thur route, life handed me some lemonade. My hangover gave it's last gasp and went away! Don't worry, at this point there is enough pain in my life to make up for it. More lemonade though. As Bobby and I pulled out of the store, rain. Quite a bit of it too. Soaked to the bone in just a couple minutes. Now some of you might have seen this TV show LOST. I dunno how, cuz since I took up running I can't remember how to work a TV. But, on this show LOST is this guy called, Sayer Sawyer something like that. Only guy on the deserted island with a $80 dollar haircut type. Anyway his job seems to be to frequently jump into the ocean, and almost as frequently clamber out of the ocean. The skinny seems to be they do this alot, so that he is wet alot. Apparently your sweet little nuthins like to check out this Sawyer fella when he is all wet as supposedly he's more handsomer like that. So running in the rain, your mind drifts just like running in the dry. That's why I had Bobby hold up and we took some documentation. Futher study has revealed there is something to this whole being wet thing, cuz we were way cologne magazine ad hot:


Good thing too. At 31st and riverside we were like hey lets go through the parking lot here and cross the street with the bridge. The obvious problem with this is the stairs. The less obvious problem with this is the parking lot. We were halfway in before we realized. We could feel the change in the air, but not quite place our finger on it. Then I noticed a shirt, purple cobra, and another, globo gym. They were every where, we were surrounded, we had stumbled into the heart of globo gym hell. One of em tried to run over us. Nuthin to do but man up and walk tall, unfortunately I forgot my stick. Never have I felt so ashamed for my colors to be in the laundry. Bobby is a devout soul however, he represented, and I gotta say I thought the rumble was on. Then, I heard a guy talking loudly over his pompous hands free phone thingy. He said "yeah the half marathon group runs like 8 miles today". "Hah," I laugh, "Bobby their half marathoners are running eight today, didn't I hear Mike say our half marathoners were doing nine?!" From that point on they seemed to admit defeat as they realized their betters were in the house. On a side note, I did a quick tally as I walked through central, and past their watering trough. Runners World girls are on average 39 percent hotter than globo gymers. I'm an engineer trust my math.

Miles for the day 16+
for the week 28++