Noodly Appendage Forever

I'm sure that Bobby Henderson probably figured he'd post his letter and that would be that. Far be it for the masses to let something as (in)significant as this get by unnoticed. Either fortunately or unfortunately, Mr. H will now be forced to live with his own creation for as long as TCP/IP connections exist (and beyond to the next incarnation of network communications...and so on and so on). No doubt the popularity spawned by the FSM has it's drawbacks but Mr. H does seem up to the challenge. It's surprising to see the context of hate mail that comes his way. Here's a message for the masses...LIGHTEN UP!

When my next big run comes up, I'll be sure to pay homage to Him and stuff myself with a second helping of spaghetti, meatballs and maybe a brew...or two. Maybe the next day's expulsion of e-coli will reveal it's own miracle.

The Coming Tea Party

I have no idea why I would want to run Boston. It's expensive and takes a lot of planning. If you're a mediocre distance runner like me, it takes a fair bit of training as well. Last winter I trained through some viciously cold conditions that decided to descend upon us after Christmas and didn't let up until the Easter Bunny froze his tail off in our backyard, and as a reward for that effort I get to do it all again, only this time at the 'show'. I've invested in two new pairs of shoes to get me through the winter, along with a pair of trials from last year that should keep me on my feet when the slick stuff dominates. It's hotels, and travel, and getting my documents up to date, paying the BAA just to run the thing (you'd think they'd be happy just to have me) and facing 3 hour runs with a scarf wrapped around my face to keep it from solidifying.

Last year Patriot's day in NE was better suited to packing a minimalist's version of bathing attire and hitting the beach more so than it was for running a marathon. The year before was not much better. I figure this time 'round it'll be pissing rain from point to point, the Wellesley girls will have headed back to their warm dry quarters once the first women go by, my family will stand, drenched cold and miserable, somewhere along the race route, shout "Hi dad...we're goin' back to the hotel" as I (hopefully) pass by, and I'll find myself heading up Boylston Street to a smattering of polite applause by others waiting only for their respective kin and more-or-less disappointed that I wasn't him/her.

I just can't figure out why I'm looking forward to it and counting the weeks.

goatees

I've decided that all men who sport goatees secretly worship the devil.

The rain, the park, and other things

like hurricane force winds.

Master t&f Cross Country race in Sunnybrook. Nothing can make you feel deflated like having lots of older folks kick your butt in Cross Country, but that's what makes this race so fun! A little mud every now and then is a good thing.



I wish I'd remembered my hat.