Friday Afternoon Confessional: Running on Empty
I confess I’ve allowed my fandom for the Detroit Tigers affect my mood this week. I’m not the type of crazy fan who lets it affect their entire life and I don’t link my self esteem to how well the team I’m rooting for is doing. But when watching the first two games of the World Series, I have not had fun. It’s felt like work and I have done a lot of blaspheming and uttered many vulgarities.
I confess to feeling the number of political ads in Ohio have become oppressive. It certainly seems like there are at least two every commercial break and I get a half dozen phone calls per day. I confess the avoidance of these types of phone calls is the sole reason we still have a landline. Whenever we have to put a phone number on something we suspect will lead to our information being sold, we put down our landline. I confess I rarely even look to see who’s calling when that phone rings. I just assume it’s somebody trying to sell me their product (or candidate this time of year).
I confess to pride over my finish time in my half-marathon last week. I had trained to be able to finish in 1:50:00 and ended up doing so in 1:48:17 (See that Paul Ryan? Runners know their best times, you pathetic lying piece of shit). I confess to trying to hide my pride by acting nonchalant and dismissive of the accomplishment when people act excited for me, but inside I’m going, “I know! Right? Isn’t that awesome? I was the 700th to finish out of over 13,000 runners!”
I further confess that I got a massage after the race to avoid muscle and joint stiffness and was a little disappointed when my massage team was two big hairy guys with calloused hands. When I was finished and left the massage tent, my wife was waiting for me and I told her my masseurs were two bearded men. She kind of chuckled and said, “Yeah, I saw them.” I told her she’d be relieved to know it didn’t move.
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