Holy Scary, Batman.
October 25, 2007
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I’ve been bemoaning gaining a few fall pounds for a few weeks now. Each time I put on a pair of jeans that I used to slip right into this summer and find that I have to see-saw them on makes me wish I didn’t have moral and ethical issues with diet pills and liposuction. To finally quit my bitchin’ I went on a run. I figured it’s better to do something about it than to continue complaining and eating spoonfuls of peanut butter to console myself.
I take off at a decent beginning pace with a long stride right out of the building door. I make it all the way from my building to the turn to enter campus by the Alfond and take a quick race-walk break. Then I push further to the steam-plant parking lot where I decide to turn around. No sense killing myself the first day out in 4 months. On the way back, I noticed a yellow lab running along the tree line by the river. I looked around for an owner and saw none in sight. The dog stopped, looked at me, and took off at a sprint around the fence, the long way, and straight at me. I nearly defecated right there; however, I stopped, got myself together and began firmly walking. The yellow lab came closer and closer, snarling and barking the whole time. I was really shaking. The dog came right up to me and I got the nerve to state loudly and firmly: “GO HOME!” The dog faltered a little, circled me twice, then ran across the road, nearly getting hit by a car in the process. He ran halfway up the hill by Beta, looked at me, barked, and then ran to the top. I took that opportunity to “sprint finish” the last 10 telephone poles home.
The lesson? Never leave home without the Hulk, or pepper spray. And buy a treadmill.