Same old, same old

This run was much like the last two runs: staring at a wall, keeping pace with the machine, looking down at the display after not looking at it for 50 minutes and seeing it's only been 5 seconds, same old, same old.

My older son stopped by to break up the monotony; I couldn't hear the doorbell from where I was and the noise of the machine, but thankfully, I have an automatic barking alarm that goes off every time someone rings the doorbell, knocks on the door, or passes by on the sidewalk in front of my house.  So, I had fair warning that someone might appear at the spare bedroom door (he also gave a courtesy shout up the stairs.)

What I'm sure he was not prepared for was the sight of his father running in nothing but some spandex shorts, a pair of socks, running shoes and a smile...well, more of a grimace, shrug.  Among all the things that I've done to scar him for life, this has to rank right up there in the top ten.  See, just because they're out of the house doesn't mean that a father's job is done.  You can keep on creating indelible, cringe worthy memories in your children right up to the time you pass on, and hopefully, that event will make a final, soul wrenching impact as an ultimate end to your legacy.

Remember, you can't legally induce psyche searing images in total strangers (and what would be the fun in that?), but there are no laws against showing up at your son's band practice with the dog dressed in a tutu and you in a leotard to match.

Tomorrow: 6 miles @ 10:30 pace