So I laced up the shoes today and went out and did a cool 4 miles. Okay, so it wasn’t cool. Humidity was at 100% and the heat index was somewhere in the neighborhood of 10,000. Less than a mile into the run, my shirt was soaked through and through (and through) with salty, Mexican sweat (which I hear is Chipotle-flavored). I was very uncomfortable, but I had to do it. I had to do it for myself, to get rid of the shame… and the belly.
Some will say that shame is bad. Nudists will say that you shouldn’t be ashamed of your body. Well, believe you me, when you’re carrying around an extra 30, or so, pounds, you’re “the kind of guy that puts the emergency brakes on a orgy real fast.” So there will be no nude sightings of me… Not yet anyway. Kidding.
Okay, I better get back to the business of being me. This was just a pointless post.
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