Most of my fellow long-distance runners suffer from the common symptom of not being able to recall what their collective thoughts were during their run. Many times they start on their journey with the grandiose plan of “working out their problems” and yet, upon completion of their run, aren’t even sure if they thought about anything at all.
In preparation for running the 10K in the Jerusalem Marathon this Friday I decided to keep track of some of the things I think about while I run. I made a mental note this morning to try to remember everything. It is documented here:
At least the sun is rising; all the wild dogs have gone now. I would have to get a million rabies shots if one of them bit me… if I even survived the attack, of course. I would probably need to be committed and receive extensive therapy after the attack. Would my children need to be sent to foster homes until I recovered?
Oh wow! This would be a great post for my Times of Israel blog. OK now, with my lame memory I am going to try to remember everything I am thinking about until I finish. Oh my God, it will never work! I’ve been jogging for ten minutes already and have no memory of how I even got here.
OK, so let’s see… If I jog now, then I don’t need to jog tomorrow, maybe on Wednesday and then resting until Friday for the Marathon… Hey, I wonder if my leggings are see-through. Can everyone see my underwear? Wait, the car that just passed me — was the driver staring at my rear end??
Why is this wind so strong? At least if it’s blowing against me on my way there, it will serve as a good force to propel me up the hill on my way home, right?
Ok, so I am taking four kids to the dentist today… I’ll take the fifth along and hopefully he will behave. The fourth is going to have a panic attack. No problem. Maybe I should drug him before the appointment. Is it illegal to drug your kids? Well, if the police come to arrest me I can surely explain the situation to them. I mean, they probably had to take their kids to the dentist one time and probably wish that they had drugged them. Will I go to jail?
Do you really have to wear black and white striped outfits in jail? It seems to unfashionable. I’ll never be able to pull it off. Stripes are just so unflattering. It was great seeing my friends in their Alcatraz outfits on Purim and their kids too. I wonder if Justin realizes that the chains he was wearing made him look like he was a bondage victim. Good thing I kept my big mouth shut when I first saw them. I seem to always have this knack for saying the wrong thing at just the right time.
I am so jealous of Justin for running the half marathon this Friday. I wish I had the time to train for it too. I’m very disappointed in myself for just running the 10K. Maybe next year I’ll be able to. Oh wait! I said that last year. Why did those guys push me over in the 10K Nike run in Tel Aviv? Does the fact that there were no consequences for their actions make them act like animals?
Do people only do well for others when they believe in a good deed cash register in the sky? If there is no higher being etc. then aren’t we all suckers for being self-sacrificing? Decisions are based on what gives us the greatest pleasure and I guess belief in something and fulfilling that gives some people pleasure. If so, why do almost all people act the same, regardless of their belief system? Is the only difference between people’s behavior their motivation and not the action itself?
Why is that guy running with his arms at his sides like limp rags? Maybe his arms are paralyzed? Maybe he has unbelievable balance so he doesn’t need to use them. If he falls, does he plan on catching himself with his teeth? That would be a great idea for a new superhero called Captain Superteeth. I wonder what I look like when I run. I should get someone to film me.
My right knee is starting to hurt. Ok, push it up the last hill…Why is the wind still blowing against me? Shouldn’t it be blowing in the opposite direction now and pushing me up the hill?
The Toy Bar tonight? No way… too much to do today. I really need to call in an exterminator. If those ants don’t leave, I’m leaving. They’re taking over my home, like in the movie “The Birds.” Eventually I’ll just have to hand over my home to the ants and become their slave.
Why does my grandmother care that my black dress is so low in the back? It’s just so sexy. Never mind. At least I’m well stocked for my trip to the Philippines. What is it like in the Phillipines? Will it be so hot that I need a year’s supply of deodorant just to make it through the two weeks I’m there? Is it safe? Do they dance salsa there? Do they have diet coke?
Oh look, I’m home!
This post is dedicated to the children of Shalva.