Randumbery IV

I used to run this semi regular feature called "Randumbness" about, as you would guess, various random and dumb things going on. It was a nice page filler. You thought you were getting actual carefully constructed content. Instead, you were getting fluff, filler, time wasters. I'm not saying this to foreshadow this post. I'm just saying the post title is Randumbery and if you can put 2 and 2 together....well, we'll both be pleasantly surprised at your cognitive skills.

Behold as I loosely tie four unrelated events together to form a tapestry of Random Juxtaposition that’ll both amaze and confuse you. Thankfully, you, my readers, are famous for your short attention spans and inability to comprehend a direct insult so you’ll merrily jump from topic to topic and feel reinvigorated, amused, and satisfied by the end. You won’t know what any of it means as I’ve used a few big words but you’ll have a smile on your face anyways!

Chicago Zombie Stagger Marathon 2008: The Redux

So, did you Chicago marathoners enjoy another unseasonably warm day? It wasn’t as bad as Heat Wave 2007 as I understand it but still pretty warm. I might suggest they move the race up to 7 AM in the future (and back a few weeks!?). Two warm days in a row no longer constitutes a “fluke”. That is now a “pattern”.

I did 8.5 miles on Sunday morning and it was pretty warm here (roughly 200 miles north east of Chicago). Even at that distance, I had some sympathy dehydration. I even thought about jabbing a fork in the back of my legs to simulate a locked hamstring but then I realized, nah, I got my own torment scheduled for this weekend.

At least you had water this time right!? Right??

What? You thirsty?

And speaking of warm weather…

My filly was in soccer action Sunday afternoon during the peak heat. A few of her teammates were not able to make the game so NO SUBSTITUTES. You want to hear children complain? Force them to run after a soccer ball for an hour under a blazing heat without a break and – in one case – without a water bottle. The township, for some reason, insists on “safety” as the primary concern. That’s funny because, as the coach, I insist on “scoring goals and mercilessly taunting opponents” as my primary objective. As long as I’m able to field enough players to still obtain this objective, the others can be rolled off the field into a Useless Player pile on the sideline as far as I’m concerned.

One gal came to me in the third period with cracked, dried lips whispering in a barely audible voice, “Water…water…”

I looked at her incredulously, ”What? Do I look like a fire hydrant? How ‘bout maybe you score a goal and then we’ll see what we can do about some water?”

One of my favorite parts of coaching is the community/parental authorized freedom to yell at children. It’s really liberating. And I’ve noticed how my volume and Subtle Insults Per Minute ratio increases as the game goes along and the children become worn down and miserable. I’m convinced though that my belittling of their soccer abilities and physical appearance coupled with the harmful tugging of their puppy dogs’ ears truly helps them become better players. At the very least, it makes me feel great and lessens the need to drink as much every evening.

For the record, my filly? Four more goals. She’s a karate chop soccer ninja!

The team staggered to the end of the game without one dehydrated collapse. Call me Mr. Safety.

Hi Mr. Safety!

My colt is doing community service this year for his school as a Traffic Control Safety. Basically, he is to shepherd the little over sized back pack wearing tots across the road to elementary school in the morning. Now this is different than the “forced” community service his Dad does. But we both wear orange vests and do the service in, or near in his case, a ditch.

Some mornings, as I stab at the litter in the ditch, I say “hello” to my son.

He ignores me. The police officer reminds me not to speak to the children.

We bond, I think.

So far, he has done his job admirably. None of the children have been run down, let alone winged, on his watch.

He has a solid record: No Kills. I’m proud of him and try to hug him and tell him so all the time. Until the officer tasers me, of course.

Electroshock Rules.

After the Detroit Marathon this weekend, I’m seriously thinking about going in for some muscular, skeletal realignment. The collection of marathons has me in a knotted mess these days. I’m pretty sure my left pelvic bone shouldn’t be jutting out to the side like that to the degree where I can carry my key ring around it. And my right knee cap has inverted and bends backward now. How'd it get back there?

Maybe I can combine it with the lobotomy Mrs. Nitmos scheduled for me. She tells me this is a fancy word for full body massage. I can’t wait for my lobotomy, then! She’s so sweet.

Happy trails.
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Mizfit is doing community service time of her own and talking PINK and breast cancer awareness. Head on over and click some cool links and share a story!