The House of Pain

Sigh...so my big sister is trying to shame me back into blogging. The problem with this blog, as I see it, is the problem with many blogs. Bloggers essentially boil down to "idiots with internet access and the ability to hunt & peck", though I touch type, thank you. I must also admit, it's a bit of an ego shot when you know the only people reading this are doing so out of some warped sense of familial loyalty.

ANYWAY...

I officially feel like the dorky cyclist from the Visa "superfreak" commercial...jamming away to "Barbie Girl" for the 3rd time this week did me in. I also need to rededicate myself to the workout portion of my training. I'm running just fine, but starting to feel the "dead legs" again...though maybe that's because I have NO sense of pace, and thus my midweek "training" runs usually clock in at 7:45 per mile for a 4-4.5 mile run. Dumbass, slow down! It's gotten to the point that songs like "All the Single Ladies" are welcome. I wish you could somehow plug in to whatever a person who walks by is listening to, for like, 5 seconds. It would be interesting to hear what people are "tuned out" to on the road, trails, treadmills, etc.

I'm cooking up a "reverse challenge" for all my lovely donors out there...or at least the ones that I think will read my e-mails. So the sibs, mom, Aunt Joanne, Matt, Molly, maybe Karyn and Patti, be on the lookout for some interesting "offers" in the near future. I also have a "special surprise" in store, just in case I make it to my goal and have to shave my head again this year. Apparently, last year's cut wasn't "short enough" for some folks at CBHS, so I'm going to have to break out the Edge Gel and the Gilette Sensor, I guess.

'til Tuesday (weird name for a band, that)

peace love happiness,
Tom
2T4:7