I'm not sure what the proper blogging etiquette is regarding responding to comments ... Do you respond in the comment section (requiring readers to come back again)? Via email (seems so laborious)? In your head (uncommunicative)?
Whatever, this latest batch of comments is crying for attention.
In regards to the previous post ... I totally appreciate all of the Good job!s and Way to hang in there!s -- I'll take all of the strokes I can get. Thanks! But. The run outlined below wasn't a particularly bad run, or one I need validation for ... that, or some slight variation thereof, is what EVERY run is like for me! The half hour prep time, the endless gear misplacement and fiddling, the two miles of dwadling, the constant peeing, even the falling over into the dust (usually singing something like Domo Arigato Mr Roboto) ... this shit happens every day, folks.
OMG, I may be even odder than I think I am.
EMZ: Still, 3 minutes?!? Way to make me feel good!
LISA: I'm totally looking forward to meeting you, too. We'll be visions in pink!
EWA: Welcome #38! We'll see how envious you are when I'm shoveling out from under six feet of snow. Or waiting for the last of the snow to melt from the yard, in June. Or shopping at Safeway in December (a topic to be explored here at a later date). I kid, of course, Truckee's awesome. Most of the time.
SUaR: I would guess one would make Fucking Cheese by pounding the hell out of it. That's some cheese I do NOT want to taste! I once had a guy break up with me because, amongst a myriad of other failings, I swore too much. Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out, motherfucker. He also thought I was too fat (size 9), too dumb, and not funny enough. I mean, c'mon!
FUNDERSON, Funderson, Funderson: My lack of preparation is in a different league than yours? Dammit, you're my litmus test. If even YOU are concerned with my lax running, I'm officially in big trouble. And I look forward to the time we meet up for a run. I travel lots. It's only a matter of time!
IRON MIKE: I only fiddle so obsessively for the first two miles or so. After that, I run like a normal person, more or less (minus the dancing, peeing and falling. Oh jeezus). Opposite of grace? Bootchez.
And last but most certainly not least, PAM: the leaver of this comment:
"So do you ALWAYS take your shoes off to take a shit, or was today special?"
I read this while filling my gas tank at some anonymous station near Sacramento and proceeded to wander around for the next five minutes laughing and chortling like a madwoman. Oh. My. God!!!
I seriously did not even think about what I wrote, or how it might read, until I read this comment. Too, too funny! To explain: ours is a strictly No Shoes household. I know, pretty out of character for me, but I pick my battles. On this day I chose not to flaunt defiance, thus Ready, remove shoes, pad over to the bathroom, shit, pad back, shoes on, etc. THEN do something like walk on the not-yet-dry deck.
Now I'm gonna be thinkin' that any day I shit with my shoes on is NOT a "special" day ....
To all of you: thanks for reading, and especially for commenting. I enjoy you ALL so much!