i told him my dog wouldn’t run

I got in my car and I drove
Over the bridge to the coast
Wondering where does old love go
— the prophet Larkin

I was trotting to the proof machine at around 10 p.m. when the ice pick arrived.

A stabbing pain in the right ITB. My nemesis from years ago. Why now?

And then I remembered.

My love affair with the Speedstar 2s ended when they wrecked my knee. THAT’S why I had abandoned them before they grew old and tired like Drew Carey hosting The Price is Right. How did I forget that?

IMG_0071It’s true. You tend to remember the good times and forget the bad. These shoes are evil. That’s probably what happened to Ryan Hall. I loved these shoes, but they didn’t love me. That hurts. Mostly in the knee.

Now what? It’s not hurting now, but that could be because of the rapid infusion of Shiner chocolate stout and a somewhat legal painkiller. I must run 15 tomorrow. I must, I must, or I will rust (did I mention the beer?). What to do?

Maybe the Beer 15 miler. It’s a birthday party, after all. And a chocolate stout is sort of like chocolate GU except it’s not expired.

The moral? Old shoes, bad. New beer, good. Memory, shoddy. Nina Simone, dead. 15 miles, maybe. Another beer? Yes, thank you.

It sucks to be a hopeless romantic …

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About gary

no sock monkeys were harmed in the making of this blog.
This entry was posted in running and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to i told him my dog wouldn’t run

  1. jen says:

    Send some beer my way!

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