This being nominally a running blog, — in part, at least — I should probably throw y'all a bone and talk about something running-related; but I don't have much to say on that front — just the usual boring stuff, which here you go:
Yesterday I ran 8.11 miles at a pace so glacially slow that I'm not even going to tell you what it was. No! Not even if ONE MEEEEELION commenters comment on this post, begging "Please, please tell us! We have so little in life and you have soo much! I mean, you got that rockin n*ts@ck and ... well, the n*ts@ck's basically it, you got nothing else, you're basically just one big blogging n*ts@ck, but tell us anyway, you dick!"
Fuck you, one MEEEELION commenters. No. Also, which is it? Am I a Giant N*ts@ck? Or a dick? Make up your one MEEEELION minds!
Instead, I'll give you this: That 8.11-mile "run" (in quotation marks because it was that slow and barely qualifies as a run) brought my monthly run total up to exactly 81 miles; which means I probably won't get to 100 miles for this month; which will make September the first month I didn't make it to 100 miles since May, and you'll recall that in May I dislocated my shoulder, which justifiably turned me into a whiny little bitch and caused me to slack off in the running department and so at least I had an excuse in May, which I don't have for this month because most of my body parts have stayed where they belong, and the less said about where they belong the better, trust me. And I can't even blame this slackitude on others' body parts' infringing upon my body's personal space (which is just my polite and circumspect way of saying that I've had some foreign fingers up my personal @$$ this month because when you reach 50 every answer to every health-related issue is evidently stored somewhere up your @$$, which sux1, and I sure hope I don't discover, when I turn sixty, that those answers have migrated to the inside of my penis-shaft because I don't care how slender a doctor's finger is, that examination is gonna really hurt) because my @$$ was also thus violated in August and I still made it to 100 miles that month despite being on a cruise for 5 of those August days.
So I suck. But not just yet I don't.
Because it is just barely possible that I will get it together enough to run three more times before the end of this month — tomorrow (Monday), Tuesday and Wednesday, I'm thinking. And if I do that, I should be able to run 19 miles in total. We'll see.
But here's the good news. Right now, I've run 786.61 miles this year. If I can keep from injuring myself (or, as I like to call it, "pulling a SteveQ"2), I should be able to make it to 1000 miles for the year. That would be a big deal for no other reason than that I say so. Because, no, I take no comfort in knowing that I've already run 1265.92 Kanadian miles (aka, "pussy" miles; aka "kilometres"); I'm an American and I like to do things the American way, which means loudly, rudely and jingoistically (<-- which is a word my spellcheck thinks is wrong and suggests I change to "linguistically" which makes me think this may well be my spellcheck's first visit to this blog because since when is anything done "linguistically" here, unless you count linguistic atrocities?).
But anyway, there's some running stuff for you because I haven't done much blogging about it lately possibly because it's really hard (that's ... etc.) for a Giant N*ts@ck to type. At the end of the month, I'll be sure to let you know whether or not I made it to 100 miles. Having said I could, I guess now I'll have to. And if I do, man! am I ever gonna be rude when I gloat about it! It will be my goal to make all 2500 human inhabitants of Kanadia cry3.
1 I'm referring to the storage of health data up the @$$, here. I don't mean to imply that my actual @$$ sux in any but a metaphorical way.
2 No, RBR — not in the same sense that you mean that phrase.
3 Easiest way: Remind them that they live in Kanadia.