I know I will never jog in place for an hour again. Unless of course tomorrow is balls cold and I am still too lazy to walk to Irving Gym. The Ramones were helpful in this grim endeavor: they didn’t completely assuage my misery, but they made it slightly less abysmal.
Good news for me: beer is good for us. Runner’s World says so. Since, Runner’s World is the good book—the inerrant word—for runners, who am I to disagree. I am hoping to knock back a couple of cold ones later tonight.
One of our local bars, one of the two that are actually pub-like, has a card where you can keep track of all of the beers you drink. If you get to one hundred in six months, you get your name on the bar. I got to six two nights ago. I decided to start the card.
I do not recommend Anchor Porter. As Porters go, it was not my favorite, which was a let down because Anchor is one of the oldest breweries in the US. Anchor Porter resides in the #6 slot on my card, so my judgement might have been slightly impaired. Don’t take my word on its worth.
Combining the best of both worlds, this race could be the best thing I have ever seen!