Okay, this is a boring running post. But it’s also a confession of my stupid stubbornness that may entertain someone. On Saturday I ended up running on a part of the trail that I hadn’t before, to get the distance that I wanted. The problem is, that particular section of trail climbs at a 20% grade for about 500 feet. And that was after running into surprisingly stiff wind for 6 miles. And I wasn’t going to let myself stop and walk, because (stubbornness again) I refuse to stop for anything when I run. So it exhausted me, and then I had to turn around and run the other 6.5 miles back home.
Post of a Good Hell
For some reason, as I was falling asleep last night, I began to wonder what my own personal hell would be like. Here’s what I’ve come up with so far: It would be really windy, all the time, and super hot and humid. Everybody, including me, would be renamed Dakota (Sorry to anybody who likes that name, if any of those people can read, but it’s my hell, not yours). I would be forced to listen to muzak versions of really bad jazz while cashiering endlessly. I would have to wear a Hot Dog on a Stick uniform, and every customer would be buying really sharp objects like porcupines and bits of broken glass. There wouldn’t be a bar code on anything, and whenever the line got down to one person a hundred more people would come up at once and start yelling at me to speed up. What would your hell be like? [ Update : One more thing that would happen is everyone would copy me . Just kidding, Jer.]
Comments