Last night, I agreed to dinner and a movie with the RSF on the condition that we hit the gym first.
I figure it's not exactly cheating on my gym buddy, since we're not, you know, exclusive. It's a big gym. I can't be tied to one buddy.
I had just found my running zen, heart, feet, salsa rhythm all keeping the same beat, when it hit me. The Stink. Now, if there's two people on a long row of treadmills, one of which being me, and I know I didn't create that funky smell... Well, you get the picture. Farting Guy totally stunk me right out of the happy running zone.
I retreated to the suana.
Steamed, showered and hungry, the RSF and I opted for dinner in Harvard Square, which shall henceforth be known as Really Slippery Icy Nightmare Square. And the incident in which I fell, and lay laughing on the sidewalk, shall be known as That's Gonna Hurt in the Morning.
And indeed it does.
I'm sporting a bruise the size of a small Baltic nation right on my ass and my wrist looks like I tried out for Ninja Amateurs Night. At least I was smart enough to ice it before bed. On several cold margaritas.
Now that's thinkin'.
Posted by This Fish at February 7, 2004 10:30 AMI wiped out once on the street in front of my house, skidded down about forty ft. of street on my backside, and came within a hair's width of an oncoming car. That not only left a mark, but was about as close as I'll ever come to living on the wild side.
Posted by: Steve at February 7, 2004 11:29 AMThe guy can fart AND run at the same time? Now that's impressive. Difficult, but impressive.
Posted by: Howard at February 8, 2004 01:45 PMWhich nation?
Posted by: Brian. the 646 Guy at February 8, 2004 09:41 PM