1. M.F. just signed up for the NYC Marathon!!!!
2. D.B. is shifting gears from diaper-changing, lightsaber-fighting Daddy to serious cyclist to go knock-off a 4 hour training ride in the 30 mph winds.
3. M.B. is about to go for a run in Seattle. Sculpture park here I come.
Are you seeing a trend here? I am. Runners and cyclists are egomaniacs. But I don’t blame them. Exercise is so boring, what else are they going to think about but themselves? Or, perhaps they’re hinting that I should ask them about it, “Oh hero, M.B. How was that run in Sculpture Park?” Yawn, scratch myself, eye roll as M.B. proceeds to tell me how his New Balances perfectly kiss the gravel. I mean, how do I respond to that? ‘Did a bad ass leg lift in pilates. You shoulda seen my down dog in yoga. I fucked that bag up in kickboxing.
O, the bourgeoisie are so mundane.
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