Well, I survived the 20K race this morning. I can't really express what it's like to just up and run 12.4 miles when one hasn't run in months. I have a lot of respect for the people who train properly and run really fast, but there has to be something said for those of us who are either so determined or so stupid that we would go out and do such a thing. It really wasn't as bad as I expected and I'm just shaking my head. I wonder how well I'd do if I actually ran all year long and trained properly? Something tells me I may never find out!
Among my friends, we all have different reasons why we run. I'm not even sure of all the reasons I do it, but one is that I enjoy seeing my running friends and hanging out with them before, during, and after the races and our training runs. There are no negative runners and it's wonderful to have that outlet of challenge and encouragement. We seem to have temporarily lost one of our regulars, Celeste, but two of our regulars who took a year off, Geoff and Dolores, surprised us and showed up today. Dolores is kind of the pied piper of running and it was good to have her back. Geoff's just a good guy and fun to have around.
After we all survived our grueling morning, we were drinking our victory beers and eating our dried out grilled cheese sandwiches (there are some penalties for running really slow) and Geoff told a story that I feel I need to pass along to you.
He and Dolores were at a work function last night and a single mother at the table shared the following: her 12-year-old son recently came to her somewhat ashamedly and told her that he had masturbated for the first time. She told him that was okay, gave the usual "in private" speech, and added that he didn't need to tell her. Either this kid is Catholic or he gets off (sorry for the pun) on torturing his mother, because he leaves little notes on her bedside table that say, "Dear Mom, I jerked off again. I'm sorry." each and every time he does! And did I mention he's twelve? That's got to be a lot of notes.
WHAT THE HELL? She's told him repeatedly that she doesn't want to know, but he just keeps doing it. It's gotten to the point that she's stopped reading the notes and just throws them out when she sees them. I asked if she bought him a 100-pack of athletic socks, facial tissues, and lotion for Christmas and Geoff said, "No," but that the kid soiled some PJs last week. He was wearing one pair, the mother went outside to take the trash out, was back in 5 minutes and he was wearing a different pair. Somehow, not knowing enough to NOT ask, she said, "What happened to your pajamas?" and he explained that he had -- well, I don't know what he said because I was too busy cracking jokes at this point, along the lines of, "What, didn't he have time to write a note??" Regardless, the mother gathered up her son's laundry and was very disturbed to discover exactly what had happened to her sons pajamas!
Boys, you gotta love 'em. Demented little f*cks.