I don’t even know where to begin; it has been that kind of a couple of weeks. Busted my glasses, jacked up my feet running sprints, caught another cold, and the family urban assault vehicle broke down. Those are just a few of the highlights.
Between all the scrambling I haven’t been training so much, and I don’t even want to get into the diet issues. There have been no weigh ins lately. Every morning I cower in the corner of the room opposite from the scale whimpering in shame and fear, my excess mass positively quivering with weakness and lack of dicipline, until the Warden wakes up and bitch slaps me back into reality, throws clean clothes at me, and then makes me go to work.
Between trick or treating and other responsible adult type obligations I won’t be throwing a leg over the top tube till I’m lining up at the start/finish line in St. Charles. That should prove interesting. Please Lord, just don’t let me finish last, or if I DNF, please let there be a cool scar to back up the story I’ll fabricate regardless.
No comments:
Post a Comment