Met an Indian girl online who I’ve been out with a couple of times. Last time we had dinner, I told her about how I’ve only been to India once for three weeks, how I didn’t like it, and how I don’t really speak the language at all. She responded with a lecture about how “there’s nothing sadder” than an Indian person who’s lost touch with their culture. (I politely did not point out that it would have been sadder for her ass to walk home in the middle of the snowstorm that was raging outside)
Today she texted me to ask if I wanted to see the Maharaja exhibit at the AGO. I declined because I’m going snowboarding instead.
Kinda sums it up perfectly, doesn’t it?
It bothers me that a guy as funny and talented as Russell Brand will likely be known to most people outside of the UK as “the guy with the long hair that married Tits McGee”.
Comfortably, and in less than 30 minutes. Ran most of it at about 6.6 mph, then picked it up to 7.0, then 7.6 mph for the last half-mile. No knee pain, either. Half-marathon training continues!
I remember reading a quote last year about “giving yourself permission to be fast.” When you’re used to being a bigger dude (as I was most definitely), you get used to plodding. Having lost a bunch of weight since those days, I think that my body can still surprise my brain sometimes.
“We can do this? This fast? Without dying? Alright!!!!!”
Gaslight Anthem’s “Drive” was the soundtrack to my all-out run at the end. Couldn’t have been more perfect.
Early dinner meant no Bikram Yoga. Got home to find my headphones busted, so i went on a quick shopping trip to buy some. Got back And got ready to hit the gym at about 10pm. Closed due to holiday hours. Came back home and changed into my winter running gear- hat, gloves, tights(!) thermal shirt and my new jacket. Ran 3.75 miles at 11 pm in the cold Toronto night.
And That, my friends, is how you start training for your first half-marathon.
“Single diamond earring, shaved bald head, silently mouthing the words as he gleefully reads I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell, by Tucker Max (hardcover edition)”
“Who is the asshole sitting across from me on the train?”
“Correct!”
