5k a runnin'

I'm on a spree-in' of a tossin' out dem a-POS-trophy's.  Would that a bein' the most annoying way to go about writin'?

Probablin'

Anyway:  Riley's Children's (just can't escape "'" can I?) Hospital is hosting a 5k on April 30th.  I was, until today, the only one to sign up at work.  My boss is sponsoring a team, and well, I once had dreams that will now be retold (after the break).
 Devotees of my earlier writing will know that I once (it still exists) had (never mind the past tense, it is still out there) a blog that no longer exists (Seriously, if you click this blue text that usually signifies a link it will take you to the site and you can read my failure day by day) that documented my journey from sedentary video game player to barefoot-runner and weight-lifting amateur.


I was in pretty good shape.  Then a series of events led to my putting off of working out, my work-out buddy became an ethereal being that transcended time and space (too bad he didn't have a blog for that experience, would have been a lot better than mine), and I just went back to my old ways.


All the beer nowadays isn't helping.


Anyway, I failed.  I fell off the proverbial wagon, and I didn't even bother running (with or without shoes) after it.  I just thought, meh, whatever.


But, I put on my challenge accepted face on (fig 1)

(fig1)

and signed up for the damned race to show all my coworkers that the guy they thought they knew, well, turns out, they didn't know him at all!  Yeah!


All day, every day at work I think about running.  Damn, I'm going to run after I get off.  I ask some asshole customer if they want to sample a soup and they completely ignore me and I'm like "Oh yeah, running fuel right there".


My engine runs on fuel, and work is the filling station (as is driving to and from work [and going to the gas station strangely enough]).  But then I get home and sit on my trusty comfy chair and, you know what, I'll run later.


It is cold out after all.