Thursday has become my parcours day. Usually, the only other people at the Treaty Line park area are walkers, with the occasional runner cutting through from the Towpath to Sand Run on the other side of Portage Path. Yesterday, however, there were trespassers on my parcours.
The first invader was a guy who caught up to me at the sit-up station. He asked me if he could scoot in next to me. Awkward. This is why I don't have a gym membership and never will. I did my sit-ups nice and slow and made sure I did more than he did, staying after he left for five more reps. Gonna get ripped, bro.
Then, after climbing the hill to the parallel bars, there were two dudes doing dips. Dips, really? No, no, no. You're doing it wrong.
Hey, dude-bros, don't you know you're supposed to walk on your hands across the bars? Let me show you how it's done. Mind if I slip in here?
The meat heads stood in awe of my hand-walking prowess. There was an uncomfortable moment where they looked like they wanted a sweaty bro hug, but mercifully the clouds offered a distraction as thunder roared in the distance.
One of them was like, "Come at me, bro-storm."
The thunder backed down, and I sprinted uphill toward the next station, leaving the compensating males in my manly dust. The parcours is mine
Wherein we forgot to pee
TNTcoach Ken wonders what happened the Wednesday's bladder advisory: "So what happened with the need to go to the bathroom????"
Answer: Eventually, it returned, but not until after we got to Berea. Can urine sweat out? Because I smelled awful, and Mrs. Viper dragged me into a store for a quick purchase. Those poor customers!
B. Jarozs criticized my choice of not running in dirty laundry: "If it's a choice between no run and run-in-dirty-clothes... I'd choose the latter!"
Sun Runner offered this unlaundered reasoning: "I figure, if they're already stinky, and I'm going to go out and get sweaty anyway, then it doesn't matter if they aren't fresh. No one's going to care."
Answer: But the problem is that I'm toting those stinky clothes into work and letting them sit there until 5 p.m. Trust me, someone will care. If I were leaving straight from home, I'd run in dirty clothes (and I have done so).
Happy Hour is nearly upon us, teammates! Have a finely brewed weekend. Run well and drink well. Cheers!