sick of not running

i really, really hate being sick. mostly. because i can’t run. makes me crazy.

i’ve had a raging cold for a week, and dutifully have left the running shoes sitting in the dark in the spare room, wondering what’s up. but feeling a little better yesterday at last, i cajoled mo sheppo into allowing me to try trotting a bit.

we went to the ymca, where i churned out a couple of miles on the treadmill before i started to feel like i was in the latter stages of a pink floyd concert. as we drove home, mo mentioned several times how we were about to die. apparently she was intent on abiding by the stripes on the road and the lights at the intersections. i had no such reservations.

coming home from the wendy’s after our run, she questioned why i decided to share my frosty with the living room carpet. i muttered incoherently, then proceeded to hack small furry creatures up from the recesses of my lungs for the next eight hours.

so today, when i assured her that i was feeling better, she was not so easily fooled. No running, she insisted.

She let me use the elliptical trainer instead.

Marriage is all about compromise …

About gary

no sock monkeys were harmed in the making of this blog.
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