a collection of mental snippets that i think on while pounding the pavement.
-i got little blinky red clip on lights for safety (the flashing headlamp is now only for reading at night again). and whenever i see my shadow i, without fail, think my light has turned off because i cant see it in my shadow.
-approximately 78% of people driving on my running route smoke cigarettes and like to try to exhale directly into my mouth as they drive by. additionally 48% of people drive big honking or old hoopty cars with beastly exhaust that taste like a fossil fuel lolly. it's the delish-est!
-there is some contagion of flying ant-like bugs that comes out randomly on certain nights. running with these in the air can get as bad as running in rain--they are hitting my face and body that frequently. they seem very delicate and die on my skin at first contact (toxic keight!), but i am dotted with thoraxes, antennae, and leg pieces from their corpses when i am done. it's like i am a wet piece of chicken and they are my batter-dipped coating. the worst part is the 3 to10 bug's worth of parts that i find down my sports bra that i motor-boated into the grave. pestilential fools!
-i have this weird fear whenever i go over a bridge or runoff or culvert that someone is going to push me over. whenever i approach one i look all around me first like a big paranoid freak and then when i am parallel to the drop off, i stay far away from the edge. think about how easy it would be for some bully to just sneak up and push me over! does that even happen, in a world?
-my POWER SONG right now is robert randolph and the family band's "ain't nothin' wrong with that." holy cow it gets me going. perfect beat for my pace, and no matter how exhausted i am, when this little number comes on, i book it. i also tend to do my signature dance move while running: rhythmically pointing to the sky and making a kissy-duck face and. can you imagine driving by me while this is happening? (you'd have to blow your ciggy smoke up my nose because my ducky dance mouth is closed tight, suckazzz!)
i defy you to listen to this song and not want to get up and move. i may submit it as our official team song for the half marathon.
chubby blinking white chick running at a 12 minute mile pace covered in a crispy outer layer of exoskeletons? ain't nothin' wrong with that.