So, my book came today. It is a book on running a half-marathon, which by the way I bought on Amazon through dcrmom's blog.
Apparently, if you go to her blog and click the Amazon ad, she gets money for it. It was no skin off my nose, which is a really disgusting phrase, to go to her site to get to Amazon as opposed to going straight to Amazon. In fact, why don't you all save your noses and order your Amazon goods through her site? Let's turn her into a millionaire, simply because it might be fun to watch. What say you?
So, the person who wrote my half marathon book is Jeff Galloway, an Olympic marathoner (me, too) who also wrote the book on running full marathons that I read back in 2000, when I was young and nubile.
When Marvin Gardensalad saw that I bought this book, he said, "Why don't you just read half of your marathon book instead?"
Really, the hilarity. How do I get through the day without stitching up my sides, with that jokester over here?
My plan is to sit around all weekend reading it, which kind of defeats the purpose of training for a half-marathon, so maybe I'll throw some physical activity in there.
I ran on the treadmill again yesterday, and one wonders why I am so dinglity danglity slow. Perhaps I should set up a screen behind me with images of a man chasing me with a knife, or a lion charging me or something.
One time, someone told me this hideous story, and I can't remember who told it to me, but if you are home alone, do not read the next paragraph.
Whoever this woman was, she was home alone in a big house — she may have been house sitting, in fact — and she was upstairs in bed, and in the middle of the night she heard a music box downstairs! Which meant someone was down there and had opened it! Doesn't that just give you chilblains? Isn't that awful? Now, what I would do in that situation is completely freeze, giving the bad person ample time to get upstairs and find me and chop me into mince meat pie. The friend, I recall, called the police and all was well.
Who TOLD me that story? Is it any of my old friends reading this? Because apparently I was so traumatized I blanked who you were. I hope the reason I know this story is not because the friend called ME for help and I am just coming back to reality right now. Which could totally be the case, because, folks, you do NOT want me in an emergency situation. I will get breathless and flap my hands. I will turn into Aunt PittyPat. Do not get ill or die on my watch, please.
Finally, I just figured out that this weekend is the Super Bowl, isn't it? That is why my Google homepage is giving recipes for potato skins, which sounds delicious, and also why every commercial is for large-screen TVs.
I couldn't be more indifferent to sports. Honestly, if you told me Joe Namath was playing, I would totally believe you. It'll be hard to tear myself away from my half-marathon book to watch that game. Wooo! Go, whoever!