And now for a sports update...
The ultra slow runner who finished 1,769th in the 2008 Tely 10 says hell be threatening the top of the pack this year.
Ill be trash-talking, and heckling them about their legs and clothing, says the guy, who writes this blog.
And Ill squeeze Bob, my beer belly, with two hands and yell, Try running with this?
As for where he'll finish, he figures cracking the top 2,000 is realistic if he doesnt make a pit stop at one of the gazillion fast-food joints along the race route for a grease and oil.
During that last mile, The Big R is a heckuva lot more tempting than the finish line.
He reports training is going well, and notes rottweilers are actually aiding his speed work.
There are two on my route. I never know if they are in their garden, chained on or in the house because I boot past at speeds Usain Bolt has only dreamt about.
He says he hasnt been slowed by the aches and chafes not even the bleeding nipples.
On long runs, my shirt rubs against them and they bleed. Then they burn like Lady GaGas.
Asked about post-race plans, this committed athlete who drastically reduced beer consumption for Tely training plans on doing his own version of the triathlon.
Itll take some intestinal fortitude, for sure. First you shotgun a beer and then you drink one through a funnel. Then you chug one.