may he turn 21 on the base at Fort Bliss

you can’t jump the track, we’re like cars on a cable
And life’s like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button.
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe… just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe
— the prophet anna nalick

Maybe. And maybe isn’t bad at all.

It’s a Wednesday on the mad dog. A storm came through last night, so everything is wet and crisp and new. If I were a dog, I’d run around peeing everywhere. But I’m not, so I only pee in a few places. Civility.

I’m maybe a couple of weeks into The Great Gluten-Free Experiment of 2018. There’s an outside chance that it could be what’s causing my woes. Upside: Ability to breathe again. Downside: No doughnuts. I’m thinking breathing is way overrated, but I guess we’ll see.

A few days ago, I accidentally discovered that taking the last bridge before the mad dog turn creates a loop course that is EXACTLY 3.1 miles long. I’m not much on signs, but this would seem to be a sign for sure. The actual sign is “No vehicles allowed on the grass,” but I figure there’s room for interpretation.

This is my second time to run this course. I realized over the weekend that all my track times are bogus, because the Garmeeeeen sucks at measuring curves, and the track tends to have many curves. So I throw out the record book and start over.

At the start line, I find out the punch line to the old joke “How many Army guys does it take to do a sit-up?” The answer being four of them. A guy is apparently undergoing his testing under the watchful eye of three fellow Army peeps. He knocks out 75 without too much effort. Army strong indeed. I’m almost certain I could do one. OK, maybe not. This leaves me exhausted before I even start.

It’s a good run. My breathing really does feel better. I run easy, making it almost a mile before strolling, beating my previous record by almost a mile.

The pro frisbee golf tournament (sue me, whamo-o. it will always be frisbee golf to me) is underway, but these guys are good so I don’t get beaned by any frisbees.

Uneventful otherwise. Just a fun run on a new course I’m pretty sure I will wear out before I’m done. HR is never too high, and the whole outing is easy. 41:58  (13:32-134), which will be the new standard.

Is the gluten thing the answer? I guess it depends on what the question was. But for the first time in a long time, I’m hopeful. Just breathe.

Maybe. And maybe isn’t bad at all.

About gary

no sock monkeys were harmed in the making of this blog.
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2 Responses to may he turn 21 on the base at Fort Bliss

  1. Dorothea says:

    I’m pretty sure this song is about more than the question of doughnuts versus breathing 🙂

    • gary says:

      the best thing about open-ended lyrics is that you can adapt someone else’s specific situation to your own life. i think “may he turn 21 on the base at fort bliss” means “i would enjoy a box of almost two dozen apple fritters thank you very much.”

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