Christmas arrived outside the gym today. And me without my Rudolph costume.
It’s sitting all alone in the corner of a big, empty parking lot. One little construction paper decoration adorns the window. It’s old and broken in, but not in a bad way. Just real. This can mean only one thing.
Mo, a skeptic, thinks it’s the headquarters for a tree sales joint. But I suspect it’s Santa hiding out in our warmer climes. What with the elf stuff being outsourced to Malaysia, I’m guessing he has time on his hands.
And Mo said some guy was in her nearby store yesterday yelling at a co-worker for touching his beard. Coincidence? If you want an old elf to be jolly, stay away from his whiskers.
Mostly, I’m doing the math on how many reindeer it would take to haul a trailer as opposed to a sleigh. They need to unionize.
Inside the gym, no Santa sightings. Run was OK. Just goofing off with Mo. I’m thinking Keith Jarrett may not be the right choice for trying to get faster, but oh well. The experiment continues. Hope the store on the corner sells figgy pudding …
3 miles (noon, tm)
34:17 (11:25, 138)
11:27, 11:21, 11:27