Thursday, Oct. 02, 2003
Dear Diary:

When I was asking my daughter about places to run when I was in Montreal, she said there was a jogging and bike path on DeMaisonneuve just a few blocks from her house.

The words "jogging and bike path" conjured up for me the image of a charming, twisting, well, PATH through a park like setting. So I got up early this morning, got on my running gear and headed out to the path which turned out to be a section of a very busy boulevard separated from several lanes of traffic by large metal poles.

Very busy.

As in a steady stream of commuters interspersed with a generous dollop of delivery trucks. I am used to running on a dead end gravel road where almost all the sound I hear is sound made by me--my breathing, the crunch of my feet hitting gravel. It was quite an experience to be running in what amounted to a wall of sound--the thrum of vehicles passing by on the asphalt, the intermittent beeping of horns, the assault of air brakes as a truck made a quick stop.

Somehow I also had it in my head I would have this path to myself, what with it being early in the morning and all. Little did I know that I would be playing a rousing game of Smush The Jogger with The Stealth Cyclists From Hell.

The problem was that I simply could not hear the Stealth Cyclists From Hell coming up behind me because of all the traffic noises. It would have been sporting if they had yelled a quick warning before swinging out to pass me in case, you know, I was about to swerve into the other lane to avoid a smashed beer bottle. Ah, but I guess that's probably against the rules because a fair warning would certainly cut into those valuable "I Smushed A Jogger" points.

At least twice during a 30 minute run I came alarming close to becoming Marn Smush which is not to be confused with Marn Smurf. Marn Smush is red and runny, Marn Smurf would be blue and considerably more solid.

I am used to having my heart race from those little sprint sections I try from time to time when I run. It's a whole new experience to have it race from a near smush experience.

Tomorrow, despite the Stealth Cyclists From Hell, I'm heading back, at least as far as a garage that's about a half mile from my daughter's house. In the midst of the usual tagging, this garage has the most wonderful bit of fresh graffiti on its side--a tribute to Johnny Cash--complete with the grim reaper. I have to get a picture of it before it disappears under a coat of someone else's paint.

If you know of any good anti-smushing incantations, feel free to chant them on my behalf, eh?

--Marn

P.S.--This being Breast Cancer Awareness month and all, The Breast Cancer Site is offering double points towards free mammograms if you click on its site. Thank you to Tess for the pointer to the site.

P.P.S.--Behold the power of pretty please covered with sprinkles! Here's the new inductees into the Bazonga Boosters Hall o' Fame, kind-hearted souls who have decided to spend some of their hard-earned buckazoids supporting me as I run the Jog for the Jugs Oct. 5 in Montreal.

Erin O
Cosmic Amanda
Lady Malfoy
Melissa S
Ms Sweet

Some folks have been donating but I don't recognize their names and they haven't e-mailed me to let me know who they are. To you mystery people, I want to say thank you, too. Please let me know if I've missed adding you to the Hall o' Fame.

All donors can proudly sport the shoddily Photoshopped yet justly coveted red rectangle below.

Boob oop de doop eh

P.P.S.- That iron woman, Karen is doing an unbelievable 60 MILE WALK FOR BREAST CANCER! If you don't want to sponsor me, perhaps you'd want to sponsor her. Oh, and ***Dave's friend Mary is also doing that walk. Yowza, that makes that 5K Jog for the Jugs seem embarrassingly short.

Mileage on the Marnometer: 448.65 miles (716.6 kilometers)
Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Half way smoochTen percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.
Goal for 2003: 500 miles - 804.5 kilometers

Going Nowhere Collaboration

.:Comments (9 so far):.

Old Drivel - New Drivel


Subscribe with Bloglines


Want to delve into my sordid past?
She's mellllllllllllllting - Wednesday, Feb. 15, 2012 - Back off, Buble - Monday, Dec. 19, 2011 - Dispersed - Monday, Nov. 28, 2011 - Nothing comes for free - Monday, Nov. 21, 2011 - None of her business - Friday, Nov. 04, 2011 -


.:Cast:. .:Diaryland Notes:. .:Comments (9 so far):. .:E-mail:.
.:Adventures In Oz:.
.:12% Beer:. .:Links:. .:Host:. .:Archives:.

Cavort, cavort, my kingdom for a cavort Globe of Blogs 12 Per Cent Beer my partners in crime


A button for random, senseless, drive-by linkings:
Blogroll Me!


< ? blogs by women # >
Bloggers over forty + ?
<< | BlogCanada | >>
[ << ? Verbosity # >> ]
<< x Blog x Philes x >>


This template is a riff on a design by the truly talented Quinn. Because I'm a html 'tard, I got alot of pity coding to modify it from Ms. Kittay, a woman who can make html roll over, beg, and bring her her slippers. The logo goodness comes from the God of Graphics, the Fuhrer of Fonts, the one, the only El Presidente. I smooch you all. The background image is part of a painting called Higher Calling by Carter Goodrich which graced the cover of the Aug. 3, 1998 issue of The New Yorker Magazine.

Kids, don't try viewing this at home without Netscape 6 or IE 4.5+, a screen resolution of 800 X 600 and the font Mead Bold firmly ensconced on your hard drive.

�2000, 2001, 2002 Marn. This is me, dagnabbit. You be you.