Yes, ladies and germs, it was that time of the week again: time for hills. I'm up to seven hills in a row now and if for some reason that sounds easy to you, please, I beseech you, come visit me after work one day and I will slap at your ass with willow switches as you gun it repeatedly from 38th to 32nd and Camosun. And when you are hunched over, heaving, wondering what it was that prompted you to attempt that feat of physical retardation I will lean over and gently whisper in your ear, "Utter insanity, my dear friend. Welcome to my world". In other words, I don't like hills.
A funny thing happened while I was running up and down Camosun (besides the numerous low-lying dogs that I almost tripped over and the wasp that tried to attack me and the woman with the uber-visible g-string under her running togs): it appeared that a group of cyclists had deigned to use the same route as yours truly. I mean, it's kind of hard to tell them apart because if you've seen one waif-like man in ridiculously tight, colorful clothing, you've seen them all. But some were yellow and some were blue. Or maybe white. I don't know. What ultimately happened was that after I had reached the pinnacle (being 32nd and Camosun, of course) and had managed to bring my heart rate down to a level that didn't feel like a rabid animal was trying to burst through my chest and the heaving nausea subsided, I would turn around and would saunter back down the hill. It seemed that as I was on the downswing, these cyclists were grinding up the hill. So basically all they ever saw was me, red faced and gasping for air... going downhill. I felt like yelling "I totally booked it up that hill five times already!" to anyone that would listen. And then it got to the point where I was wondering, I am supposed to say "Hey! Lookin' strong!" like we do in the clinic? Do cyclists and runners mix? Would they scoff at me because I wasn't wearing a unitard? So much to contemplate. My life is infinitely complex.
In other news, if you use iTunes and haven't discovered it yet you should check out all the SomaFM radio stations. They are BITCHIN'. Unless you are my good friend C of course, who said to me while he was over the other day: "What is this? It's not country so I don't recognize it".
But I'm a country bumpkin too and am going to go see Blue Rodeo this month with another good friend, N. See? I have two good friends. I used to think that me and all my good friends could fit in a two person kayak, but now I realize I would require two kayaks.
Okay. So that about brings everyone up to date. Free beer tomorrow. Get it? One would perpetually be anticipating free beer, but the sign remains the same. Brilliant. Small things, my friends, small, small things.
A funny thing happened while I was running up and down Camosun (besides the numerous low-lying dogs that I almost tripped over and the wasp that tried to attack me and the woman with the uber-visible g-string under her running togs): it appeared that a group of cyclists had deigned to use the same route as yours truly. I mean, it's kind of hard to tell them apart because if you've seen one waif-like man in ridiculously tight, colorful clothing, you've seen them all. But some were yellow and some were blue. Or maybe white. I don't know. What ultimately happened was that after I had reached the pinnacle (being 32nd and Camosun, of course) and had managed to bring my heart rate down to a level that didn't feel like a rabid animal was trying to burst through my chest and the heaving nausea subsided, I would turn around and would saunter back down the hill. It seemed that as I was on the downswing, these cyclists were grinding up the hill. So basically all they ever saw was me, red faced and gasping for air... going downhill. I felt like yelling "I totally booked it up that hill five times already!" to anyone that would listen. And then it got to the point where I was wondering, I am supposed to say "Hey! Lookin' strong!" like we do in the clinic? Do cyclists and runners mix? Would they scoff at me because I wasn't wearing a unitard? So much to contemplate. My life is infinitely complex.
In other news, if you use iTunes and haven't discovered it yet you should check out all the SomaFM radio stations. They are BITCHIN'. Unless you are my good friend C of course, who said to me while he was over the other day: "What is this? It's not country so I don't recognize it".
But I'm a country bumpkin too and am going to go see Blue Rodeo this month with another good friend, N. See? I have two good friends. I used to think that me and all my good friends could fit in a two person kayak, but now I realize I would require two kayaks.
Okay. So that about brings everyone up to date. Free beer tomorrow. Get it? One would perpetually be anticipating free beer, but the sign remains the same. Brilliant. Small things, my friends, small, small things.
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