Men! May the road rise to meet you and the wind always be at your back. I have heard sad tales of setbacks and roadblocks, but few of inspirational runs! Lo, though I be in the hills of Virginia I am still your brother and such a silence on the airwaves troubles me. Run men, and you shall be free!
I am running, though not extremely far. Usually 3-5 miles 3-5 times a week, with a goal to increase distance this weekend. This is neither here nor there but just a status update to my fellow travelers on the road to happiness. My real story is what some like to call a “runner’s run”.
Yesterday I set out on my five mile route without much of the fanfare, hoopla and the like that my Olympic colleagues have been receiving. No, I was just one man on a lonesome road with the rumblings of a bigger deal to come. My legs felt a little tight, my inspiration low, yet after a mile or two the birds and the air lightened my mood and I was having a jolly good way with it. At mile three the aforementioned rumblings took a more serious turn and let me know that I was going to be lucky to get back in my currently sanitary state. Yes, a true runner’s run with the not too unrealistic fear of soiling both my shorts and my stellar record of making this sort of visit on time and on my own terms. Oh shit! My body tensed and pace quickened… how absolutely horrible this is, especially to be surrounded by houses and the nearly sacred earthworks built during the civil war to protect Richmond from the Union Army. No, my only choice was to run like hell and hope for the best.
Lest you worry your poor little hearts any longer I made it, but barely, and the streak (if you will) is still alive. Please my friends hear this warning; Run! But prepare yourself before you run into a potentially horrendous shituation.
