blog \?blo?g, ?bläg\ noun, short for Weblog
: a Web site that contains an online personal journal with reflections, comments, and often hyperlinks provided by the writer
This weekend was one of extremes for me. A physicist might say that my weekend function had quite the amplitude. I’d agree. I’ll start with the low and end with the high, although at this moment, with my weekend coming to a close, I can’t say it’s closing crazy high.
Let me preface my low point by saying that for the last 10 days or so I’ve had a general feeling of crappiness, medically speaking. Not sure what this lingering nauseous feeling is, but it has been exacerbated by running on a couple occasions, leaving me only on the verge of puking, and never quite there.
Continuing with my previous story, Steve & I headed out for a semi-long run on Saturday morning – comfortable running weather indeed. After about 5 miles, I realized my true destination that day: vomit. As this nauseous feeling grew, our conversation dwindled and I focused my mental energy on holding back a projectile storm.
With less than a mile to go (including the porch, entryway & mad dash to the bathroom), a split second passed when I picked up a slightly metallic sound under my left foot. By the end of that same second, the hanger-like wire had wrapped around my right shoe, become entangled in my left shoe in mid-stride, and I was on the sidewalk. Luckily there was nobody else around to observe my apparent clumsiness, except for the dozens of cars stopped at the busy intersection where I made my best attempt to form a concrete mold of my body. It must have looked like a complete lack of left-right-left coordination, when in fact it was more like being a helpless calf left to the masterful lasso skills of a rodeo rider.
The moral of the story is this: those cluttered advertising signs on the right of way leave more than the impression of carelessly cheap marketing – they also morph into booby traps for runners making a mad dash to the almighty porcelain. If this were a Bud Light commercial, I’d say “Here’s to you, Mr. Sweaty Pukey Runner Biting it in Rush Hour”. But it’s not, so I won’t.
Okay, so now I’m tired of writing, and I’ve only gotten through the low part. The high part is that my family had a get together and we reviewed the definition of “blog”, and some learned it for the first time. Alright, we didn’t do just that. We’re not that dorky, but the truth is I made a promise to my family that I’d blog about our night. Consider it blogged.