Thursday, October 19, 2006
Well it goes like this, the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall, the major lift
Writing earlier today was no real ventilation. In fact, it really was more of a reminder to me that I only have 5 weeks until the Turkey Trot and that will also serve as a tune-up-less reflection of my practices of 6 miles in the past 4 days.
Honestly, I thought I had scored my way out of even having to run today when I found out that this evening at 9 would be the season finale of Project Runway.
Yo -- I'm just being honest with you all.
I was supposed to get out of class at 8:30, giving me time to get home and plant the old ass right on the couch where I could enjoy Bravo for the next 2+ hours. However, we ended up getting a take-home test and being sent on our way, allowing me to be back over an hour early. I called Megan to make sure we were still on to watch the show and she said yes -- but she'd be over at 9. I told her I would just go ahead and have some dinner while I waited for her then.
And this is how I ended up going for a run.
For those of you who don't know me, I'm a compulsive liar. You know Clinton addressing America about not having relations? How about "not inhaling"? That's all nothing.
I'm Hassert not knowing about the IMs with Pages. I'm Iraq having a direct link to 9/11. I'm Rumsfeld being able to draw a map of exactly where Iraq was keeping WMDs. I'm Fox News. I'm Bonds being clean. I'm the fence securing the border. I'm Ken Lay telling you to hold on to your Enron stock. I'm the insurgency being on their last throws. I'm "not a crook." I'm Kurt Cobain's suicide. I'm that guy who wrote the Oprah's Book Club book about hitting rock bottom and ending up in the slammer before fixing myself. I'm not trading weapons for hostages. I'm Keystone Light claiming to not taste bitter and Snoop no longer smoking weed.
I'm all this shit rolled into one....on crack!!
Oftentimes, I find myself telling the truth with all good intentions just to later do the opposite simply for the sake of being able to go back on my word. I consider it a quirk. My ex considers it adultery.
On that note, I've decided to start making more jokes about my ex. I don't have an ex to make jokes about -- but they seem pretty universal and I think it's a fun/funny way to bond. For example, tonight I spoke to Petie about his Conference Course.
So, anyways, only by saying "I will not run" was I able to lace up the old Asics and get out the door. Fortunately, I had just downloaded some new music and, 2 minutes in, was motivated to trot all damn night if the iBlax battery would stay on.
Then, for an unknown reason, the fucking thing just stopped and wouldn't play. The screen was on display but it was just -- stuck. Angered, I chucked it at the UofA sign on the corner of 6th and Campbell and continued the rest of my run in silence. Fuck iPod and their bullshit products.
Honestly, I thought I had scored my way out of even having to run today when I found out that this evening at 9 would be the season finale of Project Runway.
Yo -- I'm just being honest with you all.
I was supposed to get out of class at 8:30, giving me time to get home and plant the old ass right on the couch where I could enjoy Bravo for the next 2+ hours. However, we ended up getting a take-home test and being sent on our way, allowing me to be back over an hour early. I called Megan to make sure we were still on to watch the show and she said yes -- but she'd be over at 9. I told her I would just go ahead and have some dinner while I waited for her then.
And this is how I ended up going for a run.
For those of you who don't know me, I'm a compulsive liar. You know Clinton addressing America about not having relations? How about "not inhaling"? That's all nothing.
I'm Hassert not knowing about the IMs with Pages. I'm Iraq having a direct link to 9/11. I'm Rumsfeld being able to draw a map of exactly where Iraq was keeping WMDs. I'm Fox News. I'm Bonds being clean. I'm the fence securing the border. I'm Ken Lay telling you to hold on to your Enron stock. I'm the insurgency being on their last throws. I'm "not a crook." I'm Kurt Cobain's suicide. I'm that guy who wrote the Oprah's Book Club book about hitting rock bottom and ending up in the slammer before fixing myself. I'm not trading weapons for hostages. I'm Keystone Light claiming to not taste bitter and Snoop no longer smoking weed.
I'm all this shit rolled into one....on crack!!
Oftentimes, I find myself telling the truth with all good intentions just to later do the opposite simply for the sake of being able to go back on my word. I consider it a quirk. My ex considers it adultery.
On that note, I've decided to start making more jokes about my ex. I don't have an ex to make jokes about -- but they seem pretty universal and I think it's a fun/funny way to bond. For example, tonight I spoke to Petie about his Conference Course.
Blaxar 2: so why is this such ahard course
petestarr2: its very hilly and normally cold as shit
petestarr2: there isnt 300 meters of flat anywhere
Blaxar 2: sounds like my ex!
Blaxar 2: insert Bush chuckle here
So, anyways, only by saying "I will not run" was I able to lace up the old Asics and get out the door. Fortunately, I had just downloaded some new music and, 2 minutes in, was motivated to trot all damn night if the iBlax battery would stay on.
Then, for an unknown reason, the fucking thing just stopped and wouldn't play. The screen was on display but it was just -- stuck. Angered, I chucked it at the UofA sign on the corner of 6th and Campbell and continued the rest of my run in silence. Fuck iPod and their bullshit products.
5 miles, 34:30.
