Exile on Feet Street

I’m not sure what happened to the “M” word from my blog title in this post title. It must be around here somewhere.

If there’s one thing I enjoy about typing up these inane thoughts a couple times per week, it’s imagining the reaction of the reader. Are you amused? Dumbfounded? Annoyed? Disgusted? Appalled? Hopefully, all of those things and all at once, preferably.

I usually create these posts first thing in the morning after turning on my work computer, grabbing a cup of putrid bulk office coffee, and chit chatting amiably with Cube Farter. It really kick starts the day and gets my addled brain moving somewhere other than the fact that I’m sitting in a partitioned office surrounded by the Many Shades of Beige in middle south Michigan.


And it brings some clarity and connection to my passion for running with the outside world.

I don’t draw my inspiration to run…to strive for PR’s…to challenge new distances from this blog. With or without the blog, I’d still be out there cranking out the miles and seeking out challenges. Rather, the blog provides an outlet for expressing random thoughts that occur to me that, typically, would swirl then disappear into the dusty corners of my memory. Or get foisted upon Mrs. Nitmos and my family sometimes welcoming, sometimes unwillingly. Instead, I trap them and bring them before you thrashing and kicking. Admittedly, these thoughts are strained through a Bozo the Clown shaped filter and out the big red nose before landing on the computer screen in front of you with a squishy, loud PLOP. Because who doesn’t like a little Bozo snot with their post?

I always get a chuckle at your comments. Mainly because you are all childish. And if there is one thing I love to do, it’s to walk around with undeserved air of faux superiority. The fact that any of you have decided to regularly stop by here, read these often ridiculous posts, bother to leave comments, and then cut me down on your own blogs is touching. Touching in the same way the iron maiden is touching. You may each consider yourself a spike that has pierced my tender skin at one point or another.

There are some other things swirling in the back of my noggin’ these days. Some things to pursue. One of those things is that I would like to eat more Fruit Loops this year but that is really ancillary to this. My posts are developed on company time. Surprisingly, “blogging” is not in my job title (I checked.) I have another thing or two I’d like to spend company time working on. It’s hard to keep packing personal interests into my “work” day. Already, I barely have enough time to get, well, actual work done.

So, I’m going to take a bit of a sabbatical. Probably not permanent. I’m going to leave this site in the hands of the llamas for awhile. They’ve promised to behave (though watch out for the spitting.)

I’ll be around. I’m omnipresent. I’m ubiquitous. (Choose your favorite adjective.) Really, how many times do I have to describe myself in celestial terms? This should be rather obvious.

I’ll still be running, racing, stretchy banding, crunching and, occasionally, robbing from orphanages. I just won’t be the one to compare any of these activities to goofy looking animals or vague historical war strategies. At least, not until I get my gangsta rap album off the ground.

Hey, here’s my missing “M” word!

Until we Meet again.

Happy trails.*

* Thug life 4 ever.