Running. Full Stop.

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Well, it was only a matter of time.
Reversion to the mean.
I stepped on the scale.
Blinked.
Holy Sh*t. An Explosion.
One month of late night snacking (will work it off tomorrow),
an extra portion here (will have a light lunch),
a candy bar or two there (will skip a meal),
and the Jenga Tower collapses (wiping out a 15 year record low).

So, I’m off. Running. Mianus River Trails.
Overdressed (way) for 32º F. Man wearing plastic suit on a hot summer day.

No dogs. No gadgets. No water. No people. No talking.
No fancy shoes. No fancy moisture wicking shirts.
No anti-chafe Body Glide balm for my Boobies.
No whining about the cold.
No complaining about the mud, the ice, the roots and the ruts.
No agonizing over turned ankles.
I will either levitate over all of it or mow it down.
And, Heaven help any chatty Human in the way of this-calorie-shedding-angry-middle-aged-bulbous-white-man.
We’re taking it all off, all of it, in one day.

Time Check: 7 miles.  1 hour 17 minutes.

Nap time.


Related Posts: Running Series. Image Source: Mme Scherzo

28 thoughts on “Running. Full Stop.”

  1. Laughing – not AT you. No. And, what Vicki said, please do tell. And, have you ever tried Bikram yoga? Stuff melts off of ya! Happy nappy.

  2. Man, Kanigan, you crack me up. I laughed like a fool all the way through this post. Loved the visual of the Jenga Tower crumbling, then could totally envision you out there, chewing up the trail, unsuspecting man, woman, child or dog be damned…. This is sooooo your métier, my friend. I pity the fool who crossed your path, and I sincerely hope your bathroom scale got the memo. Drop that number or else…. 😉

  3. So grateful you did it. I just had to read it to feel the calories burn. In my face muscles. When are we running again?

    1. I know well that hate is a consuming fire poisoning every part of us, yet— yet there are times when it has to be met, for some degree of it is as cleansing as fire. Heat brings change, and so anger can be the right weapon if one is clean enough to use it.

      ~ Florida Scott-Maxwell, Measure of My Days

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