Got off work at 7:30pm. Still light out. Yanked on running pants and sneakers, stuffed ipod down jogging bra. Ran down to the bay at twilight, dodging toads on the roadside.
Running back up, the sporadic cough I've been having expanded into an asthmatic gasp, and I walked in the headlights of cars, hoot-wheezing toward the house.
A moth flew straight down my throat.
I tried to spit it out, which is when I discovered that I do not know how to spit. A rope of saliva and bug parts fell out of my mouth, dangled somewhere down around my thighs, and swung back to splat across the length of my torso.
Started jogging toward the house, coughing and spitting and gagging. Made for the shortcut before my driveway, down a short hill of rocks between the mango trees. My ipod cord caught in the branches, I managed to get it wrapped around my neck, and fell down the hill. Legs went into violent muscle cramps from lack of use. Rode a cat back into the house, got into shower, and climbed under my quilting with a beer.
Well played, nature.
I tried jogging in Hana once, about 2 minutes in I realized that Hana really is not leash law territory, by then the "Twilight Bark" had spread the news of my location to every canine in a 2 mile area.
ReplyDeleteThis is clearly the universe's way of telling you that jogging is dumb.
ReplyDeleteBrad has inspired me. I will not stop until I have shat myself like a proper runner - the probability of which increases dramatically with a few unleashed pitbulls.
ReplyDeletehttp://www.laupre.com/blog/02zip-up-earbuds Maybe this would help your ipod troubles?
ReplyDelete