I'm not making shit up for effect or combining characters the way David Sedaris does.

The future holds the possibility to be great or terrible, and since it has not yet occurred it remains simultaneously both.

Thanks, beni. I still get five miles most days, but sometimes my knees force me to take a little break. I run outside all year long too. I don't care how hot or cold it is. You couldn't really tell it by looking at me though. I'm not put together like a typical distance runner. I'm more like Emmit Smith. Or maybe Juan Uribe.

But you can't really judge a book by its cover. One time a skinny guy followed my pace for about two miles along the Evanston lakefront and out onto the landfill. We must have covered it in about fifteen minutes. When we reached the north end of the campus where the observatory used to be and where the "House that Kelly Amonte-Hiller Built" is now, I turned around and this guy said to me, "You carry your weight well". Asshole.

Another run I'll never forget was on a really hot summer day. I was kind of lethargic for the first half of the six-miler I was doing so I looked for a target to motivate me during the back half. Sometimes I like to stalk another guy's pace to keep me interested, but I try not to be obnoxious. I'll usually lay back a bit instead of running right on top of him. So on this particular day I saw what looked like an old guy about a quarter-mile in front of me. I figured I could make that up in the space of three miles and catch him. It turned out he was going a little more than I thought, but I picked up my pace and kept cutting into the gap. I was within about fifty yards and I could see he was probably about 65 or 70 years old. I had about a mile left to go so I relaxed a little. When I got in my last half-mile I cranked it up to pass him. He started shoulder checking. He knew I was back there and I guess he could feel I was shooting for him. He picked it up a little, but I was going really good. Finally, with about a quarter mile left I pulled alongside him. He looked over- this motherfucker wasn't even breathing hard- and he said, "Hey kid, catch this!" and took off on a dead sprint. I took about three quick steps before giving up. He was gone like that.

The moral of the story is, maybe bernstein can leap tall buildings in a single bound.

JORR is a Mittyesque.

Thanks, beni. I still get five miles most days, but sometimes my knees force me to take a little break. I run outside all year long too. I don't care how hot or cold it is. You couldn't really tell it by looking at me though. I'm not put together like a typical distance runner. I'm more like Emmit Smith. Or maybe Juan Uribe.

But you can't really judge a book by its cover. One time a skinny guy followed my pace for about two miles along the Evanston lakefront and out onto the landfill. We must have covered it in about fifteen minutes. When we reached the north end of the campus where the observatory used to be and where the "House that Kelly Amonte-Hiller Built" is now, I turned around and this guy said to me, "You carry your weight well". Asshole.

Another run I'll never forget was on a really hot summer day. I was kind of lethargic for the first half of the six-miler I was doing so I looked for a target to motivate me during the back half. Sometimes I like to stalk another guy's pace to keep me interested, but I try not to be obnoxious. I'll usually lay back a bit instead of running right on top of him. So on this particular day I saw what looked like an old guy about a quarter-mile in front of me. I figured I could make that up in the space of three miles and catch him. It turned out he was going a little more than I thought, but I picked up my pace and kept cutting into the gap. I was within about fifty yards and I could see he was probably about 65 or 70 years old. I had about a mile left to go so I relaxed a little. When I got in my last half-mile I cranked it up to pass him. He started shoulder checking. He knew I was back there and I guess he could feel I was shooting for him. He picked it up a little, but I was going really good. Finally, with about a quarter mile left I pulled alongside him. He looked over- this motherfucker wasn't even breathing hard- and he said, "Hey kid, catch this!" and took off on a dead sprint. I took about three quick steps before giving up. He was gone like that.

The moral of the story is, maybe bernstein can leap tall buildings in a single bound.

Mittyesque? Hyperthymesia?

You're going to thesaurus.com to try to impress everybody.

The hyperthymesia I knew because Marilu Henner has it.

I'd post my boobs if I wanted to impress everybody.

If this ever happened that thread would set a CSFMB record for views. You'd be the talk of ESPN 1000 and The Score.

When it comes to the Bears, America is just a slobbering shitwagon. Every single opinion of his regarding this team is the most pristine of doomsday horseshit.

Laurence Holmes is a fucking weirdo, a nerd in denial, and a wannabe. Not a very good radio host either.

I'm chubby and wide no matter what I do too, dolphin. I could be 20 lbs less and I'd still look the same.

Why would it piss me off?

Fast forward to this weekend. I went for a walk and got to a little track at Leland/Clark. There is a 1/5 mile track there, so I pull out the stop watch and jog it as best I can. 2:05...oh how the mighty have fallen.

You should have just grabbed a shot and a beer at Carol's.

You should have just grabbed a shot and a beer at Carol's.

You should have just grabbed a shot and a beer at Carol's.

Well, I got hold of Bernstein's magic shoes over the weekend.


Went out on break and ran a 4.3 40 and finished with a leap over a moving city bus.

I smell a bit....

Inspiring!

Inspiring!

Weird, I see Dolphin looking in my asshole

:lol:

Killer V just turned the clock back to when he was funny.

I smell a bit....

Inspiring!

He didn't really say he could run a 4.35 40, did he?