They called him Ironman, I called him Skinny Arse.

Good Morning peeps. What a time im going through, you may remember at Christmas I hurt my back and was unable to exercise so i took a break, 3 months in fact.

It is hard to do anything physical without having a goal, so when i decided to start running the treadmill again i needed a goal. In high school i did steeplechase races, i recall the trail was 3 miles and i could cover the distance in just over 15 minutes. If you are wondering I would always finish in second place. Skinny Arse continually finished ahead of me. He was tall and skinny but its all relative I weighed 90lbs. You see where im going with this right.

GOAL: To finish ahead of Skinny Arse.

I devised a diabolical plan.The first day on the treadmill i did 1 mile in 15 minutes, the second 13 minutes, by the 5th day i was down to 11 minutes. Here is what I was thinking. If i could bring it down to under 10 minutes, and factor in my age,  i would have an imaginary race and beat the crap out of him. My logic may be twisted but I hate losing.

The 7th day was the big day. We lined up at the start, all in my head of course. The gun went off, GO, the race was on. I was imagined the crowds cheering as I pound the treadmill. Glorious feeling. I was feeling confident. As i was about to breeze by him, i did a dumb thing, i decided to put an imagine of Skinny Arse in my mind. I closed my eye to totally take in the feeling.

Have you ever closed your eyes on a moving treadmill? DON’T.

The race will have to wait until my back stop hurting.

As always,

Dont forget to greet a total stranger today.

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