Wednesday, March 09, 2005

When it comes to funk, I am a junkie.

The new Runner's World (By the way, why don't they have "Sitter's World? Oh, wait, they do. It's called TV Guide. Snap!) arrived in my mailbox yesterday, chock full of useful articles and pictures of the ├╝ber fit tailor made to decrease my awesomeness exponentially.

It had an article about use of NSAID's (read ibuprofen and asprin, i.e. ADVIL). The article said the drugs are a necesarry evil, but issued stern warnings about possible health problems, including, but not limited to, kidney failure, stomach bleeding, and something called Ugly Mouth. (Just kidding, I made ugly mouth up.)

It freaked me out sufficiently to temporarily discontinue my constant intake of the drugs. This morning, I remembered why I was taking the darn things when I got out of bed to a pounding return of shinsplints in my left leg. I couldn't wait to return to my old friend. Magic beans down the hatch. The monkey will sleep tonight. Meanwhile, I'll run 12 on the darn treadmill or in the dark.

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