Purge
After being sized up for a tuxedo, I ate quite a bit at Scott's parent's place. Grilled foods, which is what you have to do on the holiday weekend, so I'm perfectly justified. But I ate way too much.
I went running this evening to make amends. I'm happy with the progress I've made as a runner. I still don't do it more than four times a month (but hopefully that will change; if you see me, ask me if I've run recently and start chasing me if I say no), but I'm building up some endurance. I ran up the Promenade and over to the Brooklyn Bridge, and did maybe a quarter of the bridge before I had to segue into walking. Then I mixed it up with running and walking quickly-ish across the bridge and back to the niceties of Brooklyn. The BBQ ribs and especially the hot sauce with which I smother the ribs proved more of an impediment than actual exhaustion.
Towards the end of the run I passed a large man with a shaved head sitting on a bench. I was very much tempted to pat his head as I went buy, in the hope that he'd chase after me and provide the rush of adrenaline I needed to make the final leg of the run. He'd come after me, but I'd have the ontological advantage: I am a runner, and therefore it is my natural state to run. He clearly would not be able to run like I can run.
Plus running at night with the city all lit up and purdy is epic.
I went running this evening to make amends. I'm happy with the progress I've made as a runner. I still don't do it more than four times a month (but hopefully that will change; if you see me, ask me if I've run recently and start chasing me if I say no), but I'm building up some endurance. I ran up the Promenade and over to the Brooklyn Bridge, and did maybe a quarter of the bridge before I had to segue into walking. Then I mixed it up with running and walking quickly-ish across the bridge and back to the niceties of Brooklyn. The BBQ ribs and especially the hot sauce with which I smother the ribs proved more of an impediment than actual exhaustion.
Towards the end of the run I passed a large man with a shaved head sitting on a bench. I was very much tempted to pat his head as I went buy, in the hope that he'd chase after me and provide the rush of adrenaline I needed to make the final leg of the run. He'd come after me, but I'd have the ontological advantage: I am a runner, and therefore it is my natural state to run. He clearly would not be able to run like I can run.
Plus running at night with the city all lit up and purdy is epic.
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