Out for a jog.

So remember that one time I used to be a runner?

I looked at my calendar this morning, and was made suddenly aware that I have to run a marathon in 19 days, which is funny. Funny like the sum of miles I've ran in the past month is 26. That is less than a marathon, even. And I have to run at least that, at once, in one day, in less than three weeks.


But I can't help it. Things got in the way. You know, like marriage. And back-to-back episodes of Law & Order.

But today I decided it was about time to train. So I headed out for my staple loop around town and along the lake. The 7.5 miles wasn't bad, and in fact, not one ounce of my body hurt, but the mosquitoes were on a war path. All 8, 345, 957, 345 of them. They were out in hoards, like whores at an underage house party.

In the approximate 42 seconds I stood immobile to allow my Garmin to pick up a GPS signal, I contracted both HIV and West Nile, which is unfortunate. And now I'm sitting here clawing at my skin because it itches like mad.

But other than that, you know, the AIDS and all, the run went swimmingly. I listened to Keane on my iPod the entire way, which is sort of like running in your sleep because have you ever listened to Keane? Their music so relaxing. I can't decide whether I want to nap or take off my clothes.

I did keep my clothes on, however, which is good. Because I don't need mosquito bites in and around my lady bits.