Running -- Part Two

My family has a lot of private jokes . . . I assume all families do . . . and most of ours revolve around catch phrases. Someone will says something that will strike another of us funny and the joke then evolves until you cannot stop it. "I forgot I was holding it" is one of them . . . said whenever you have a really big brainfart or if someone thinks that you are not thinking straight. "Did you forget you were holding it?" My poor sister is responsible for that one. And it is a story for another time.

Another one is "Iiiii'mmmm . . . . sweaaaty" (or I'm sweaty, for those who prefer English) which has to be said in exactly the right intonation. It is a quote from one of my "cousins" (or my father's best friend's kids . . . who are actually closer to me than my cousins), said when she was maybe three, if that. The exact quote would be "Daddy . . . Iiii'mmmm. . . sweaaaty. . . " in a tone of utter frustration and disgust, as if being sweaty was the worst thing you could possibly be . . . as if she would rather be dead than sweaty and her daddy should fix it right now, by putting out the sun or making an air conditioner than could condition the air of the entire world. Our family uses it all the time . . . in the middle of moving someone in August . . . when lifting heavy things . . . heck, I even throw in the "Daddy" if my father is around.

So comment on running workout two . . . Iiiiii'mmmm . . . sweaaaaty . . .

Still like the little buzz afterward. Still really want new shoes. (and now a new watch. . . mine is too loose and makes marks because of the sweat) So I will run on Sunday. Ahhh, materialistic fitness . . . the best kind. Wait and see if I actually get fit . . . and then there will be new clothes to buy.