It All Started with a Second Glass of Wine
The kids were tucked away in bed and Wingnut and I were enjoying a quiet evening watching Master Chef. I had a lovely glass of Argentinian Malbec. It was so lovely I decided to have a second glass and that is when my morning run went very wrong.
Because I had that second glass, it took me longer to get around this morning. I was feeling pretty lethargic. Because I had that second glass, I went ahead and had my coffee before my run, which delayed me a bit longer. Because I had that second glass, I was a bit dehydrated, so I hung around and drank some extra water. Because I had that second glass, I didn't hit the road until past 9:30 am and it was already too hot for me to run. Because I had that second glass, my legs were like lead and did not want to move.
I ran about two miles and felt like garbage. It was too hot and the air was fairly thick with haze. I turned to head home and came across a woman driving a monstrously huge truck. She decided to turn left in front of me and as she passed by, her monstrous truck belched a cloud of black smoke that I had to then run through. That spelled the end of my run. If I hadn't had that glass of wine, I wouldn't have left so late for my run and I wouldn't have had to breathe in a cloud of nasty exhaust. I walked the rest of the way home.
Come to think of it. It all started with my running buddy throwing up the day before. If he hadn't caught a stomach bug, we would have gone for our run together on Thursday. There we go! I'll blame it on vomit.
Because I had that second glass, it took me longer to get around this morning. I was feeling pretty lethargic. Because I had that second glass, I went ahead and had my coffee before my run, which delayed me a bit longer. Because I had that second glass, I was a bit dehydrated, so I hung around and drank some extra water. Because I had that second glass, I didn't hit the road until past 9:30 am and it was already too hot for me to run. Because I had that second glass, my legs were like lead and did not want to move.
I ran about two miles and felt like garbage. It was too hot and the air was fairly thick with haze. I turned to head home and came across a woman driving a monstrously huge truck. She decided to turn left in front of me and as she passed by, her monstrous truck belched a cloud of black smoke that I had to then run through. That spelled the end of my run. If I hadn't had that glass of wine, I wouldn't have left so late for my run and I wouldn't have had to breathe in a cloud of nasty exhaust. I walked the rest of the way home.
Come to think of it. It all started with my running buddy throwing up the day before. If he hadn't caught a stomach bug, we would have gone for our run together on Thursday. There we go! I'll blame it on vomit.
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