Had my second tour of the old dojo in as many weeks this past Monday.  Craig Donnelly, he of the nothing but legs and lungs, joined me and I was a little apprehensive.   He took it easy on me, but by Buddha I didn’t show him any mercy.  Used the opportunity to describe all the measured points and some of the historically great athletes and workouts that had occurred there.

And how these days a softer, kinder, rudderless crew sets the tone.

Regaled him with tales that included a vast assortment of characters I’ve encountered at Zorinsky.  Of the 20,000 miles I ran around the 7.5 mile loop.  Of farting horses never tiring.  Stories of the joyful as well as the scornful.  Of a time when the  dangerous Smirkubus cast her spell, charming all that would gaze into that Medusa’s gaping maw.  Of  the dude clad all in black and hush puppies that would run loop after loop after loop after loop, battling his own demons.  Of sad little wood harpys, hiding behind trees, pointing and laughing.   Of self righteous, hypocritical, busybody echos that haunted the lake.  Of one that would pretend to cloak in God’s own Robes to carry out splintering agendas.  Real attacks on me and my loved one. I couldn’t make this stuff up and don’t miss it a bit.  And will never forget it.

But yeah, its softer, and kinder these days.  And we’re all better off for it.

I found a remote key to a Tesla Model S on my run last week.  Called the West Shores (Richerville!) HOA and correctly guessed that the garage it belonged to was in that luxury.  Zero to Sixty in 3.2 seconds in an electric car.  Cool toy.  The fella came by and collected that evening.  Happy ending.

*For Pete and Kyle.  No, never!