Me and My Marathon

So I've picked up running.

I know what you're thinking, "Why?" Well that's a good question. Until recently, running always brought back memories of long days on the track, the field or in gym. Days of a coach yelling at you, pushing you to go further.. dig deeper.. until you puke. Especially LONG DISTANCE running.

But my running today is different from then. I'm no longer a sprinter. And I actually enjoy the extended pain. To a point.

Last weekend I ran in my first half marathon. That's 13.1 miles. I spent nearly three months training for it. I worked my way from 15 minutes of running, all the way up to 2 hours of running, non-stop. As I was running in the big race, at times I felt like an athlete again. It's amazing what cheering crowds do for your energy level. On top of the adrenaline high, I've also lost weight and lowered my blood pressure. My doctor should be happy to hear that.

My friend Clint also ran with me. Now he wants to run a full marathon, 26.2 miles. Six months ago I would have laughed and said he was crazy. Today, I'm actually considering it. Of course, I'll have to start training when I can walk again. Thanks to the race, right now I'm hobbling along like an old man with arthritis.

Ode to My Office

Something in my office stinks.

I've checked my feet, beneath my seat,
something in my office stinks.

My draws are clean, my teeth -- they gleam,
but something in my office stinks.

It smells like peas and rotten cheese,
seriously, something in my office stinks.

It makes me scowl, it smells so foul..
MAN!!! SOMETHING IN MY OFFICE STINKS!

Sniff, sniff, okay.. it's the microwave.
Now who cooked cabbage and hot links?!

Seriously man, it wreaks! Whew!!

I'm not, so don't worry

I've never thought that I had "gay tendencies".. until this past Friday night.

My Friday started off like any other manly, masculine day. I woke up 20 minutes before having to be at work. I had a Gatorade and Hostess Cherry Fruit Pie (with real cherry filling) for breakfast. Lunch consisted of a chicken, bacon, ranch sandwich, with chips and a root beer from Subway. As for my work day, it was the normal beat down. I guess it was around seven o'clock that night, things began to change.

Let me just tell you, every Friday night I join the other singles or "losers" as we're known at church, for a night of sad singles' softball. It's something we do to forget, at least for a little while, our sad, pathetic lonely lives. Anyway, sitting on the bench for the entire game, I found myself a bit bored. So when my friend, "Greiner" asked if I wanted to hang out, along with our friend "Mamy", I said sure. Why not? Just me and the gals.

Our fun began with a trip to Target and the "hair-coloring" isle. I guess it was somewhere inbetween Nice 'n Easy 113 Natural Burgandy and "Greiner's" purchase of "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days," I blacked out. The next thing I know, I'm watching a chic flick and COLORING GREINER'S HAIR! Straight men don't color hair?!?! Do they? No. And what's worse, it turned out well. Which makes me wonder, did I chose the wrong career?

I've hit a new low. What's worse.. "Greiner's" bragging about her new colorist. Men, I apologize. Dad, I hope you can forgive me.

The Power of Last Names

I've always thought I've had a strong last name.

Hawkins. It speaks of power. Strength. It originates from the English language. It's first appeared in North America back in the 1600s. The Hawkins Clan even has its' own motto: "Toujours pret". Translated it means "Always ready." Damn right.

But not all men are as lucky to have such a distinguished surname as I am. Some have absolutely horrible last names. And ladies, when it comes to changing yours, doesn't that matter? I mean, seriously, if you were to meet the man of your dreams, perfect in everyway.. only later to find out his last name is "Phat" or "Poo".. wouldn't it affect whether you're interested, just a little? Or what if his name was something you always had to spell out for people like, "Fingerlickersteinamon"? Would that not affect your decision to take his last name? "Ya know, I think I'm going to keep mine. Maybe hyphenate."

Women are raised to look forward to their wedding day. It's the day they become a princess. A day when all of the attention, all eyes, are on them. But what if you were introduced at your reception as "Mr. and Mrs. Fagina". Yikes. Just think about it.

Hip Hop Hottie

So I'm considering joining a Hip-Hop dance class.

I know, it seems a bit odd. An aging white boy, wanting to learn to dance with a new 'flava'', but whatever. It's just an idea.

I remember the last time I took lessons. I was in the seventh grade. I asked my friend Aaron to teach me a dance move for the big "Easter Eggstravaganza Dance". I wanted to impress the ladies. He taught me one move. And let me tell you, it worked. Not only did it impress the ladies, it SOMEHOW won me a dance competition. I remember at one point during my "gyration," someone saying, "Do something different!" But I just stayed focused.. twisting.. turning.. hypnotising...

But I'm not the young stallion I used to be. I'm nearing 30 and I'm losing touch with the younger generation and its' music. Let's just hope I can still "feel" the beat. Because if I can.. look out ladies.. C-Dogg is back and he's got his dancin' shoes dusted! Nah! Shi' mone!