I took some today toward running the 2011 Falmouth Road Race in, um, Falmouth. I hope to get a number too, because as I may have previously mentioned, “My girlfriend has a house down the Cape,” and Falmouth “residents” get some consideration for runner numbers. Anyway, on Saturday I worked with a cool runner chick at Marathon Sports in Melrose and invested the sweet ride ASICS Men’s GEL-Nimbus 11’s in the 2E width. Man, they are cushy and comfy. Not as sweet as my mandals, mind you, but for running, they are dripping with high fructose corn syrup. I also accessorized with some Zensah Calf Compression Sleeves in an attempt to protect my pull-prone calves. Last night as I proudly modeled the sleeves and my new pups, Joyce wasn’t exactly endorsing the look, and seemed concerned someone might see me in my geeked out gear and (the horror) then associate me with her. “Whatever” I muttered (to myself) and then galloped, gazelle-like from the living room, and swooshed like an autumn breeze through the dining room and into the kitchen.
Today I pulled up, laced up and drove about ¼ mile to the gym. After employing my newly learned calf stretches for both the Gastrocnemius and the Soleus, I stepped on a treadmill, walked for 2 minutes, then moved from jogging to running pain and pull free. As I was calculating the 30 minute, 2.25 mile workout, I saw Joyce walking in. I thought she was there to congratulate me and crown me with a golden olive wreath like they do at the Boston Marathon, but she was only there to cancel Nick’s membership. I walked up behind her, touched her back and told her of my feets feat. Then I proudly pointed to the compression sleeves cruelly mocked just hours before. She smiled, then looked at the kid behind the desk and said, “I don’t know this guy.”