Last night I ran four miles on the Greenways Trail, posting a legitimate 8 minute average in the process. No muss, no fuss...I started slow with about an 8:45 pace, and simply continued to speed it up until I finished the run in a dead sprint.
I had grabbed all my gear that morning in the dark, and when I went to change clothes (which I do in the parking lot of my local brew pub...yes, I get totally naked when changing. Calm yourself) I discovered that I had grabbed my long technical underwear (which I love, and they love me back) and my oh-so-snug tri-shorts, which leave nothing to the imagination. My running shorts were still in the drawer. So much for gearing up without a light.
I opted to ditch the underwear and just go with the tri's, which have a thin chamois pad. My jersey was hanging long enough to mimimize my exposure, and began to walk to the trail. As I did, I passed in front of the pub where a few of the waitstaff (all of them friends of mine) were on break. One of the guys (who blantantly leads an alternate lifestyle. And by alternate, I mean gay) stood up and said "Excuse me sir...the Short-Short People called...they want their clothes back." The others simply stood and applauded. As they should, given the view I provided them.
Besides being publicly ridiculed by my friends for my attire, then rest of the run was great. I had a random run-in with my junior-high math teacher, who I yelled a greeting to after not having seen her for oh, damn near 30 years. I doubt she recognized me. I'm much better looking now.
It's raining here today, so I think I'll make a pit stop at the brew pub in real clothes on the way home. It feels like that kind of day.
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