I can't possibly give you my wicked splits from last night's track session because I haven't actually run them yet.
Well, by the time you read this, I will have run 10 x 400s at 1:45 per interval. But by the time you read this, I will be enroute to New York City to challenge the entire NYU track team (pictured) to a battle royale of wits, whiskey and wunning.
Yes, I woke up bleary-eyed and bushy-tongued and hit the road this morning. But because I'm unceasingly kind, I wrote up this little pile of running trots just for you.
Because copying and pasting your comments is a fuckload easier than making up crap.
Spike invokes the unholy name in regards to my marriage saving suggestion of running with a cyclist who has a bike computer: "Sure, get a Garmin for your bike partner, but you won't buy a Garmin for yourself."
Answer: My bike companion has a Protege 9.0, which is about $200 cheaper than what that other company sells. No, it doesn't have GPS, but we can tell where we're going just fine with our eyes.
Ted has an idea of why I'm seeing double: "It is either ... (a) You have been reading too much Stephen King novels, or (b) dealing with hangover from too much drinking last night, or (c) need to get your vision checkup."
Answer(s): (a) not enough pig's blood; (b) always a possibility; (c) do you mean to tell me the bottoms of these beer bottles don't correct my vision?
Happy Hour is almost upon us, teammates. Have a finely brewed weekend and good luck to all you racers. Run well and drink well. Cheers!