Around this time last year, I decided to start running again. For three years I experimented with varying degrees of sloth. I had had enough. So out the door I went.
I didn’t think I was going to be running barefoot. Or starting a running club. Or that my wife, who always hated running, would join in. Or that I’d be blogging about it, and socializing with people with names like “Viper” and “MissZippy” and “Air Conditioner.”
I didn’t think I’d be picking on podiatrists. I’ve never been to a podiatrist. I don’t think I’ve ever met a podiatrist.
I’ve run about 1500 miles, 580 barefoot.
Today was the Beer Run, which I did not attend, but I did run some fun laps around Farris Park with a gaggle of MadMayoites. Going to the Beer Run would mean skipping lunch. So instead, I’m going to buy some beer and run around town this evening. And then, I’ll drink some beer. Voila, Beer Run. Probably Yuengling’s Black and Tan, my cheap beer of choice.