During my barefoot run today another runner commented that I was running like the Kenyans-but not nearly as fast.
I microwaved some leftover turkey for lunch today for a little too long. It was still popping and crackling when I set it on the table. I put a large dollop of homemade cranberry sauce on what turned out to be the that last pocket of steam. It exploded and my shirt had so many dark red spots that I looked like I just took two rounds of bird shot in the chest. As what luck I had left would have it, I had a change of clothes at work--they're for when I run to work--so I did not have to spend the afternoon enduring the pointing and laughing and then explaining over and over.
Have we ever had a month when none of the magazines at the checkout stand advertise a new way to flatten your belly?
Ride Captain Ride Upon Your Mystery Ship
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