Super Bowl Sunday

50 miles, 50 miles, 50 miles, shit! I haven't been running at all, and I have less than five months to go from overweight, with a diet of red meat, Copenhagen long cut chewing Tabasco, beer and whiskey drinking, and transform myself into a vegetarian super athlete who runs ultra marathons either barefoot, or in a minimalist shoe like the Vibram Five Finger running shoe.

Yesterday, after many cups of coffee, lingering around the house and trying to convince myself to start running again after almost two weeks without acomplishing anything. I had an epiphany, I will shave my head,and create my own gimmick to trick myself into running. I have never shaved my whole head. I have had a couple of killa mohawks. It's time for a cinematic moment. I walk briskly into the bathroom, grab the clippers, into the bedroom to get the camera and the tripod, from the bedroom "babe, can I have your makeup mirror". My wife gives me her makeup mirror, and reminds she would prefer if I didn't shave my head. I am bald like a ballon baby. I thought it would make me look younger, WRONG! My fairly tanned face looking rather akward as it tries to merge with my ass white bald head.

Once I washed off all the superfluous hair clippings, pulled on my boxers, running shorts, Vibram shoes, hydro PAC, iPod shuffle, turned on a Willie Nelson tune, kissed the baby, and started jogging up the driveway. I was going to jog inside of H.P.P. Subdivision, I went from 24th up to 28th, took a right on 28th, made it a quarter of the way up the street, and I was stopped by a pair of dogs who were off leash, and coming at me. They had a steady bark, but did't seem viscious, although they kept advancing on me, and one of them was a burly blue pit bull. So i wasn't going to chance a fight with that big bastard. I started walking backwards, they kept coming, I shouted at them, they kept coming, finally I picked up a rather large rock and chucked it at them, and they seemed to understand. they stopped, looked at each other, and turn around and went home. I decided to go back to the main road, and run a little ways down highway 130. I took little baby steps, if I wanted to increase my speed I increased the number of steps not the length of my stride, I was feeling great. I passed Shower Drive, the dump, next thing I know, six miles into my run I am turning down highway 11, my knees are screaming, but I want to keep going, and I do. After another mile the fat on the upper inside of my thighs stinging from the mix of the sweat and the rash where my fat thighs had been rubbing my boxers together between my thighs until it felt like they were going to burst into flames. I stopped, called my wife on my cell phone. I told her to come get me, but I was going to keep jogging. I struggled to keep moving forward, my rash increasing with every step, trying to shift my boxers, trying to pull them out, trying to roll them up, but nothing worked. My wife got my at the Kulani turn off. I made it a little over nine miles. she drove me to the beach where I showered. Then to the store to buy a twelve pack of beer, and I made it to the party in time for the start of the second half. My knees finally stop screaminG after beer five or six. Then I started feeling great, began boozing, and playing, kubb and frisbee cricket.