Dragons

Michael Wollar of Vernon Hills, Illinois--a dear ex-teammate and denizen of the LFC
theater community (which I think just might be the best thing the joint has going for it)--once consoled me after the worst race of my life with these words:

"Sometimes you have to set a new low."

Yes, after I bombed the shit out of the something-or-other invite in Anytown, Wisconsin with its grueling patch of goose crap, Mike dropped that pearl of wisdom on me, and then LFCXC team manager Brady Lowdermilk came up to me on the bus and quoted the main character of some forgotten coming-of-age-via-an-epic-worrisome-party movie to the effect that "sometimes, you just gotta say 'fuck it.'"

Both maxims operated in full flourish on Sunday in the aftermath of what I mark as my slowest 5K ever with the possible exception of my first XC race at Mehl Park (during which I probably decided I'd quit running). This time I had a lot less to lose because I knew I was in sorry shape, and, in fact, was kinda proud of it. I'm going to milk this middle finger to fitness fascism for as long as it seems advantageous.

But before you pooh pooh the performance of Jerwillickers McSwizzlesticks, it should be noted that he handily put down BOTH ACETTA AND WENNEBORG. Check the results--it's plain as day. Defeating both Acetta and Wenneborg in the same race is quite a feat for a Tucson road runner--especially for one who is a 23 year old male who has not recently given birth.

Also, unlike Abe Froman in 2006, he did not get outkicked by a guy with a name straight out of Laguna Beach. Obviously, names are crucial. All in all, it was a fine day, and I slept easier knowing that I tossed 20 bucks into the tip jar of Pima CC XC and even got a very wearable t-shirt for it.