Wednesday, February 25, 2009

AM Miles

The great, drunken, rack patty Dean Martin once said, "I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day." I have the same sentiment for people who get their in at 6AM. It's like then what?

I mean forget about the hellishness of having to tear your sleep deprived heap of a pissed off body from beneath the warming warmness of your happy happy comforter, so you can stumble around looking for your iPod, trying to figure out if it's cold outside or brutal, and you can only find one glove... I seriously rather fight Rosie O'Donnell to the death over a frosted strawberry Pop Tart (and that has nothing to do with my undying love of the Pop Tart nor my unquenchable hatred for Rosie.)

You ask most morning runners and the answer to why is typically to "get it out of the way?" That's how you'd expect someone to describe a prostrate examine not a run. Your run should be something you get to look forward to, anticipate, plan for, use as motivation when everyone is annoying the fuck out of you. The run is the best part of the day - like the little chocolate plug in the bottom of the cone when you have a Drumstick ice cream cone.

Anyway - 4 miles at 1AM is how this playa be rolling. It's all about the closure, and the procrastination really, but I feel like my day is officially done. And I now REALLY want a drumstick.

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