I can hardly blame him. I was running onto a very flat trail. And off of a very flat, well-constructed bridge. Which makes me wonder, how bad was I shuffling if my foot couldn’t clear a tiny little knot in a board on a bridge? But then I think, I couldn’t have been going that slow, because I had enough speed to really launch myself out there in a strongly horizontal direction for a while. And then it hits me: I must have finally figured out the rare talent of being a super-speedy shuffling-type runner!
We’ve all seen this type at races. The ones whose form seems to be better suited for trips back and forth to the buffet at Golden Corral, yet somehow they just passed you. And now you have to watch their strange shuffle from the back until they fade off into the distance.
Oh well. I guess a few scrapes and one thumb that’s a bit less opposable than it should be is a small price to pay for starting a guy’s day off with a belly laugh, right?
“Go for a run,” my friend Kate said. “You always feel better after a run,” Kate said. Do I? . . . . .Do I?
No bueno. I don't like this post! :( Poor Julie. :(
ReplyDeleteOuch! I like the humorous description, but... Did you get any offers of help or was the guy laughing too hard? I think I would have let him help, if he would have offered, n then when he was on his knees checking out my injuries in between his fits of laughter, I would have karate chopped him across the neck!! A Bette Lu
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