The boys looked skeptical when I proposed it—I’M RUNNING OUT OF IDEAS PEOPLE SO CUT ME SOME DAMN SLACK—but I’m the one taking the selfie so we’re doing it my way.
So ...
I’m mostly Norwegian and a bit of Swedish with for some unexplained reason a kraut last name.
Scott is ... a Northern European mutt. As are many people. I don’t judge.
Rob is ... a pan-European mutt. He described this concept in alarming, less-than-polite language. I was completely scandalized. So I DO judge.
But wasn’t this clever and fun? Yes. Yes it was.
On a final note: As I stretched in my warm-down, I stood up from a squatting position too fast and had a four-alarm grayout. I have grayouts 10 times a day, but rarely this overwhelming. And no doubt alarming. But I squatted back down until it passed as Scott and Rob looked at me in what I assume was bewildered alarm. But it finally passed, I stood up again ... and another four-alarm one hit me. I squatted again, this second one passed ... and guess what happened a third time when I stood up. For those of you keeping score at home, that’s THREE epic grayouts in a row. Poor Scott and Rob didn’t know what to do, but I assured them I was OK and I just needed to get seated in my car and I’d be totally fine to drive. So they got in their cars, Rob cautiously drove away, and Scott VERY CONSPICUOUSLY I SAW YOU SO DON’T PRETEND YOU DIDN’T pretended to play on his phone until he saw me finally get myself seated, seatbelted, cooled by my AC and on my way. BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT FRIENDS DO SO THANK YOU.
But I’m so exhausted that my eyes are crossing as I type this and I just hallucinated someone sitting in my dad’s chair reading a newspaper. Don’t be alarmed by that; it happens after long runs. But it’s my sign that I need a nap.
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