One last day of summer vacation before returning to school tomorrow. But it wasn’t a total loss. I head from Pochero.
Pochero, of course, is the mythical founder of the term Pikermi, the 13.1 distance people once referred to as a “half marathon.” Pochero, outraged that 13.1 miles shouldn’t be “half” of ANYTHING, found the city at the halfway point of the original course (the marathon ended at Marathon, so it only made sense that the half would end at the closest town halfway.) As it turns out, it’s a place called Pikermi. Everyone loved the new name, but nobody knew how to pronounce it. So he called the hotel and ask the befuddled clerk. He’s probably still on their watch list. FYI peeKERRmee. Like the frog, except nobody sticks their hand up anybody’s bottom.
Anyhow, he’s fine and says hey. He no longer lives in South Freakin’ Korea and is a bit torn about it. Hasn’t been running at all. I will never understand how people just stop running. Although I seem to have done it this week and highly recommend it. Except for the box of shoes in the closet. He says maybe he’ll sneak out and buy some shoes while the wife isn’t looking. I hope so. The world needs more Pochero.