Return of the Blah-g

Sandy has guilted…suckered…asked me to write the blahg again.

(Anyone who has had Sandy get them to do something knows what I'm talkin' 'bout! She looks at you with those eyes..you know, kinda like the ones we all get from our dogs when they want another bisquit, plleeeeeaassssssse can I have a treat?...with that almost....weepy you-know-you-want-to-do-this tone in her voice…right?! I think she hypnotizes people! And the fact that she did it over the phone just proves how good she is at her craft! Either that or I'm just a sucker).

So here we go again.

In case you haven't heard, I will not be running a marathon this year.

I think that ticked off the Marathon Guru (Marty) a bit.

Either that, or he thinks that all that running has muddled my brain.

Either that or he's mad that I have fallen a tad behind on his payment (hershey's kisses and Reese's..I still owe him for all of his worldly running knowledge)(But honestly, I don't think there would ever be enough chocolate to pay him back for all his gems of wisdom!).

Let me explain.

When I told him I was going to do a triathlon instead of a marathon, he asked me if I knew how to swim.

"G", I said. "Do you really think I would sign up for a triathlon without knowing how to swim?"

"I was just asking." He wrote.

I told him that I was going to strap on my fins and water wings and the swimming would go, well...swimmingly.

I believe that at that point, and I could be mistaken, he called me a bimbo.

See? I told you he was mad.

With "BImbo" echoing in my ear, I went back to the Long Beach Triathlon site and read the "Rules and Regulations" a bit more carefully. No fins. No kick boards. No twin turbo jet pax attached to your life jacket.

WHAT?!?

Aw bugger.

How fast you think I could dog paddle a half mile?

The bimbo had better start swimming.

Be well everyone.

Peace out.