I’ve always wanted to say “I’ve taken my training to the next level.” Now I’m saying it. “I’ve taken my training to the next level.”
I was getting ready to run today. Shoes, shorts, Garmin Miranda, hat and sunglasses. (In my quest to find out if wearing sunglasses actually makes it cooler, the answer turns out to be NO!!!)
As I walk through the living room, Mo looks up and says “You can’t wear those shorts.” What? They’re just basic black New Balance. Not too short, not too long. Shorts that Goldilocks would be comfortable wearing while trying to outsprint annoyed bears.
“Huh?” I ask. OK, I’m not at my wittiest in the morning.
“I can smell them from over here,” she points out, like that’s a bad thing.
So that’s it. Now not only do the Piranhas reek, but apparently the 120 percent humidity is causing my shorts to take on a life of their own as well. I have to wash them TOO??? Running is becoming an awful lot of work.
I walk back into the other room, dawdle a moment, then come out again. Mo assumes I’ve changed shorts, I assume I can make it out the door before she notices, the neighborhood dogs assume there’s a carcass on the road somewhere. Everyone’s happy.
Because sometimes when you’re taking it to the next level you gotta raise a stink …