Learning A Thing Or Two...

Today, Sunday's delayed posting date...but at long last, I am sitting on my couch with a cup of coffee, and the time to tell about the last two runs.

Wednesday brought a crisp, cool night and a plan to run "5-ish" miles with Brenda. She arrived around 7:00 p.m. Jared, immersed in some work things, looked as though he was longing to join us as we headed out.

B and I started slow (she was stiff from ripping a ridiculous 1:52 at last week's BAA half marathon, I was just out of shape), before setting a nice cruising pace for the majority of the run. Chatting topics ranged from the mistakes of the past (both sad and hilarious) the romances of the present (also, strangely, often hilarious), and the assorted events of the future (one can only hope).

We cruised home through Dizzle Squizzle (see below), and bumped back out towards Porter to pick up some tasty libations--SmuttyNose Pumpkin Ale. I convinced B to stay for a brew, while we wait for Jared to return--he'd finished up and succumbed to the siren call of new sneakers and an open road. Upon arriving back home, he joined us for a delicious, cold beer.

And now, the things I learned on Wednesday's run, in the order I learned them:

1. Dizzle Squizzle (n.): Davis Square (For additional reference, see the Snoop Translator).

2. Rogue Ass Pain (RAP)--apparently I'm not alone in occasionally suffering from the affects of RAP--B also has often wondered where the strange pain in the can region originates from. I'm convinced that its worse after faster runs, thereby the cure is an obvious one--run slower:) Brenda agrees, but seems to be a dissenter regarding the cure. Ah well. I suppose I can keep my pace up and hope it goes away...sigh.

3. Garbage fart (n.): A fart of extreme rankness, i.e., a stink bomb of epic proportions. (Note: no one experienced one of these on the run; it simply came up in conversation. Seriously.)

4. Covered wagon (n.): The term used for when one party of a couple farts in bed, then pulls the covers over the head of his or her partner, thereby trapping said partner in a fart-filled cocoon. Often incorrectly referred to as the "Dutch Oven"--though those of Dutch ancestry KNOW that a Dutch Oven is, in fact, a large soup pan.)

5. A shocking fact about my heavy-metal-loving fiance: He is a Prince superfan. Complete with the full lyrics and hipthrust.