Single Digits

This morning's weather for my run along the East River was in the single digits. At one point, I was wishing that I was a duck. There they were just floating on the river. No clothes. No thermal gear, no beanie with a tassle. Just them and their feathers. I wasn't sure what kind of ducks they were as I wasn't able to get a good look at them due to needing to continually look straight ahead. Turning your head when you're that cold requires the whole body turning, Freinkenstein-like, and that was something that I was not prepared to do. Not when a gust could suddenly go down my shirt.

My East River running partner told me yesterday that he is changing offices and will no longer be coming to the City. Instead, he will be staying in Jersey. Have I told you about my ability to avoid Jersey? Maybe another time, but those jug handles irk me and you don't want to see me irked. I kind of resemble a pigeon when I'm irked. Well, it looks as if my morning Manhattan runs are over. No way I can do those by myself. I'd rather be running on a treadmill watching Sportscenter.

Anyways, I'm not feeling it. This hasn't been an amusing session.

488

12 miles to go before I hit the magic 500 mile marker on my shoe odometer. For those not familiar with running, 500 miles is when the internal components of a shoe begin to break down. In other words, I have 12 more miles and then these shoes are going to the Boys and Girls Club bin on Central Ave. Now I've had many, many shoes and I've hit 500 miles on all of them. It doesn't take that long as I'm running between 100 and 200 miles a month. Although I did have that phase where I had this strange compulsion to go to the running store every other weekend and I ended up with five pairs of running shoes, each with under 100 miles. I still have four pairs of those. It's tough to hit 500 miles when you're rotating shoes every day.

Anyways, this pair is special. As a matter of fact, as I sit here thinking about these shoes (Asics Gel Kayano Xs), I'm a bit melancholy. I might even have an Interpol song going through my head. Usually, any of you could call me a girl if I spouted off about some song that meant something special to me (something that has never happened btw), but in this case you cannot. I don't pay attention to lyrics. None. It's all about the beat and the sound. I could care less what some dude is crying about. If he's singing about his pet rock that he used to bash his girlfriend's head in or about how some guy broke his heart, it's all the same. The only differentiator is the sound. Anyways, as I'm thinking about the impending retirement of my AGKXs, the 2nd song on Antics is going through my head. Good beat.

So let's talk about this particular pair of AGKXs, as I've had more than one pair. They are orange, which strangely, is one of my more favorite colors. For having no soul, I seem to like bright things. Very odd. Maybe I'm hoping that the shoes will rub off on me. This pair is the pair that I Boston Qualified in two years ago. I didn't run Boston in them as I was seduced by this hot pair of Mizunos. I shouldn't have given in. They were just eye candy and gave me blisters. So, they have a special place in my, wherever my heart would have been. Should I save them in remembrance of the fastest marathon I've ever run? Will that be the pinnacle of my marathoning career?

Forget it, they're going in the mice infested trash can under the stoop.

Pow Pow

I can't wait for the first time I catch my son doing something really wrong. I've waited my entire life to say, "Son, go cut yourself a switch." Parents are still allowed to whip their kids, right?

SF Bound

But don't tell my present employer. I'm waiting for just the right moment to spring that one on them. They'll be devastated I'm sure. And totally surprised. Now to figure out this logistical nightmare. Anyone have a huge truck? Free flights for L & Z? I'm begging at this point. I'll even paint myself blue and ride through downtown naked on a horse.

I Am

not VTOL. I am PTC, as in PassTheChips (which will be my new gamertag whenever I get another Xbox - damn Microsoft not wanting to fix my current Xbox. So what if I had opened it up? Your lousy 90 day warranty had expired about 45 months ago. The only reason I will be getting a 360 is because I have a hell of a lot of original Xbox games that I still want to play.). Where I got this moniker, is a long and boring story, kind of like how I was going to nickname Zane JJ. D Y N O M I T E!! Needless to say, I like chips, I don't put a lot of thought into nicknames, and my mind wanders. A lot. Now, go off and continue to be bored reading something else.