Martini calls me last night while I'm driving home from work ..."Who is this?"
You called me.
"Right," he pauses, "are you running tonight?"
Am I running? No.
[Brief silence]
"So, that's a no then? Why not?"
Really, my hip feels fine, but that's just the problem. It feels fine enough to think I can go out for few miles with no ill effects. But my not-such-a-dumbass self knows my hip will be straining by mile two and I'll be in limptastic pain the next morning. I'm starting to feel out of sorts -- unwell, even. I see people running and I want to tackle them. This is what you get! This is what you get for taunting me!
I feel like a slug. I sit around most nights watching my reruns and I still have the appetite I had while training for the marathon. I fear I may need to go on a diet if this keeps up. Sadly, I may have to trade my beer for whiskey (very slimming!) while my running shoes are on sabbatical.
Luckily, I have a good distraction tonight. I scored tickets to Game 4 of the ALCS. Go Cleveland! Hmm, so much for the diet. Unless the vendors carry Johnnie Walker.
2 comments:
It was a good night to go to the game.
Freakin' Indians.
The fifth inning almost made the lite beer taste good.
Manny's solo homerun was amazing, but not enough to tie the game as he may have thought when he posed like Jesus.
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