The last appearance from a representative of my bountiful wardrobe of clearance-rack patriotic attire

The first weekday training run since my hip grew back. Here’s hoping it takes me a full three miles!

#HowToTurn50 #AndNeverLoseHope

#WellMaybe #ButJustALittle

Well, shit.

I really hope it’s one of the Illegal McFireworksons loudly displaying their stupidity in our neighborhood

50 Things About My Fourth Of July:

1. I ran my 8K this morning with 99.76% NO PAIN. 
2. See what I did there?
3. I said .76 because of 1776!
4. Because I am nothing if not mathematically patriotic.
5. I hadn’t realized how defeated I’d gotten over my stupid hip injury and the fact I hadn’t run a step in 10 days, and the fact that the pain is gone has filled me with near euphoria.
6. WOOT!
7. As the cool kids say.
8. Rule No. 1 for running is to NOT try something new on a race day.
9. No clothes that you’ve never worn before.
10. No foods that you’ve never eaten before.
11. Because that’s DUMBASS.
12. But I’m a total dumbass.
13. Because I bought new compression shorts yesterday to hold my brittle, aging hip parts in place at the advice of a Facebook friend.
14. While I was at it, I also got some new running socks that have padded collars in the backs to prevent my super-cute patriotic running shoes from sanding away my Achilles tendons like last time.
15. Plus I dug out my long-overlooked patriotic sunglasses that I don’t remember fitting very securely.
16. Because why not?
17. Oh! I also dumbassedly chugged a never-before-introduced-into-my-body Rocktane(R) Ultra Endurance Gu(R) Energy Gel before the run.
18. But everything worked out perfectly and didn’t give me any problems.
19. Except.
20. Ex. Cept.
21. EX! CEPT!
22. Compression shorts—which I’ve never worn until this morning’s race—not only don’t feel noticeably compressiony but they do nothing to keep the seatbelts fastened for the bumpy ride.
23. NOTHING.
24. So after bouncing around in their slippery, unsupportive pouch for 4.97 miles this morning, my Margos are what we will politely call Channinged.
25. Ouch.
26. Ouch ouch ouch.
27. Also: They’re made with the same Super Slippery Slipperiness(R) as gym shorts.
28. Super Slippery Slipperiness(R) + Super Slippery Slipperiness(R) = MY GYM SHORTS WOULDN’T STAY UP.
29. I’m sassy!
30. After the race, I foam-rolled my hip even though it didn’t hurt.
31. Because I’m responsible hip owner.
32. While I was on the floor rolling my hip, Bridget sat down next to me to keep me company.
33. Just look at this picture of us.
34. LOOK AT IT!

35. I. Love. That. Dog.
36. Then I fell asleep sitting up in a chair.
37. Because the Rocktane(R) Ultra Endurance Gu(R) Energy Gel had clearly worn off.
38. I was still wearing my finisher medal.
39. Yes. I’m THAT guy: The douchebag who SLEEPS IN HIS DAMN RACING MEDALS. 

40. I ran into so many—SO! MANY!—wonderful friends before and after the race this morning.

41. Including—but not limited to—my training buddies Rob and Scott and my saintly friend David, who patiently ran at my old-injured-man pace with me through all 4.97 miles.
42. Even when I had to stop and walk.
43. Which I’m thrilled to announce was because it was insanely hot and not because my hip hurt.
44. WOOT!
45. Again, as the cool kids say.
46. So—unless this morning was a fluke—my Summer Of Running Away From Being 50 is BACK ON!
47. With super-slippery compression shorts if Margo and I feel like I need them.
48. Plus real, ACTUAL support from Bridget.
49. And that’s #HowToTurn
50. #50!

Finished! And my hip feels great! Seriously!

OHMYGODYAYYAYYAY! 

But now we’re stuck behind a damn train on the way home.

And we’re off!

Only a gay man would artfully arrange his running attire for a night-before photo

I could say I haven’t eagerly to the point of giddiness waited until I could FINALLY pin a racing bib in its designated place of honor on the front of my new Summer Of Running Away From Being 50 shirt since the moment it arrived in the mail over a month ago, but we all know I’d be lying.

I could also say I haven’t eagerly been planning my patriotic little running ensemble since this time last year, but I’d only partly be lying because I didn’t know until today that I’d be wearing brand-new compression shorts to hold the randomly loose parts of my aging, brittle hip in place for tomorrow’s 8K.

Bonus purchase: cushy new running socks! With a pop of neon lime! To tie everything together with my red-and-neon-lime Rocktane(R) Ultra Endurance Gu(R) Energy Gel!

#HowToTurn50 #LetsDOTHIS

Bridget is clad in her royal vestments and surveying her domain from the portico

I am not a subtle patriotismer

Nice try, dipshit

And it’s people WHO, dumbass

Does anyone know what this red thing means?

What I learned this morning:

1. I think I’ll be able to run tomorrow’s 8K.

2. There’s a chance I may be an idiot for doing it.
3. Which would completely sabotage all my summer and fall running goals.
4. Or not.
5. My physical therapist gave me the go-ahead to run tomorrow, but only because she trusts me to pull my head out of my ass and stop running at the first sign of pain.
6. Those weren’t her exact words.
7. But she’s right.
8. These two yahoos are saints for joining me this morning in what I warned them might end up being just a lovely sunrise walk.
9. Which it pretty much was.
10. I estimate we ran a mile and walked a mile and a half in aggregate.
11. My stupid-damn-fuck-you-I-hate-you-I-hate-you-I-hate-you-not-fair-why-why-why-injured hip is definitely sore right now.
12. But in an I’m-just-being-overly-cautious sensitive way and not an I’ve-reactivated-my-injury-and-completely-sabotaged-all-my-summer-and-fall-running-goals way.
13. I think.
14. But I just said “I think” on list number 13, which probably negates it and I might as well set up a ladder in a black-cat breeding mill and walk under it.
15. Or I just said that to pad this list so it reaches 25.
16. Game ON!
17. We didn’t plan to be so collectively patriotic in our running attire this morning.
18. Clearly Rob and I are actory drama queens because we’re not afraid to be weird in our selfies.
19. Clearly Scott is a master of self-restraint and decorum because he always looks normal and respectable in our selfies.
20. Or he’s just a fun-selfie sabotager.
21. You’d think that given the consistency in his boring, normal smiles over the last two months that Facebook would always automatically recognize him when I post our selfies.
22. But you’d be wrong.
23. But we still embrace him as one of our own.
24. C’mon, 25! You can do it!
25. BOOYAH!
26. Oops.

It’s my first time running on my damn crippled hip in nine days

and it’s my whatever-mileage-doesn’t-hurt test run for tomorrow’s 8K. Observant readers will notice my patriotically appropriate attire. GIVE ME LIGAMENTS OR GIVE ME DEATH!

Hey

One of us needs some help in the coiffure department today

The other two aren't smart enough to spell coiffure. Or two. Or too and to for that matter.

Little tush, meet catwalk

I just found some long-buried comp cards from my early ‘90s Quest To Be A Supermodel(R). 

According to the stats under my Flipped Up Jeans Jacket Collar Equals Total Membership In A Biker Gang(R) headshot, I had a 32” waist. 

According to my three editorial shots, I had still-hopefully-trendy Jake From Sixteen Candles(R) sideburns. 

And a tie with a PERFECT DIMPLE, thank you very much. 

And pegged jeans. And a bit of a saucy frayed spot in my crotch. And bulky Classic Boot Socks(R) that I know for a fact I ordered from International Male(R).

#BraveConfessions

How to tell if your physical therapist is out to get you:

1) She makes you do weird, awkward, unflattering exercises in front of that one super-hot guy who doesn’t have a wedding ring

2) Knee bends

I’m at physical therapy. Sup with you?

Hiding the TV cables in the walls. It’s what separates us from the savages.

It also took WAAAAAY longer than I thought, but my super fix-anything owns-all-the-cool-tools neighbor came over and—even with a bad back—helped make my dreams of non-savagery come true:

Next up: Successfully program the universal remote. And figure out why MSNBC has no sound. Which is very weird. I’ve failed many times at both of these things, but I will not grow old and die until I get them accomplished.