4 miles (12:47)

The best thing about running on the treadmill is the total lack of concern over shark attacks. In my short-lived career as a triathlete, I worried a lot. Speedo malfunctions, flat tires, wasp in the crotch syndrome. But my biggest fear was being eaten by a shark. I was always the last swimmer, which I suspect was a clear signal that I was an ideal dinner selection. I have a long list of Preferred Ways To Die, and shark attack did NOT crack the top 10. So as I ran today on the TM (Mo was itching for a workout and for some reason is not drawn to the 130 degree soupfest we call summer) and watched the pro surfer in an arm wrestling match with an 8-year-old shark, I took solace in the knowledge that I likely would not get chomped in my sport of choice. Remember that day we were at the Surf Club on our fourth beer trying to remember why we never became professional surfers? I think this was likely it. If only the saying had been goatabunga instead …. 4 miles tm (12:47)


About gary

no sock monkeys were harmed in the making of this blog.
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