Today, as promised, I researched running clubs in my area.
It appears as though there are two possibilities: one club in the town where my rental property is located that is very active, and has hundreds of members of all different ages and ability levels; and another club in the area where The Gazelle and I reside together which seems to be smaller, and probably has fewer highly talented runners.
In addition to being larger and filled with more skilled runners, the former also has at least 3 runners who are also authors of books regarding running.
Errr…yeah.
Real, published authors. Real, published authors who know enough about running to write a book. Can you even fathom how much knowledge one must possess on a particular topic in order to write an entire book about it? I’m feeling slighted by Jesus himself. And God. And Santa Claus, and anyone else who may have any type of authority at all over the universe.
“Hello…God?
Seriously…is it really possible for someone to be fast AND smart? Why is life so incessantly unfair??!!”
So, now I have a choice. Do I run comfortably, possibly being less challenged with runners which I am assuming are less talented, or do I most definitely challenge myself further and join the club with the running authors?
And so, this is what I ponder tonight…as I sit on my blogging futon, eating the leftover, freezer burnt remnants of a pint of Haagen-Daaz Extra Rich Light Caramel Cone ice cream. Truthfully, I’m also pondering how long this specimen has been in my freezer. However, I don’t think the shelf-life would deter me from eating it anyway, so its really a moot point.
Basically, all of this worrying about running clubs and rancid ice cream just makes my booty tighten.
Sort of like this picture still does…
