Last night at the Gangster Hills a fellow runner's toes got into a fight. I didn't have my camera so I'll spare you the image of these two toe's duking it out but this is how it went down:
Toe 1: What are you looking at?
Toe 2: Whatever I feel like looking at. In fact I bite my toenail at you sir.
Toe 1: What the crap does that mean?
Toe 2: I dunno. Some Shakespeare guy said it.
Toe 1: Well it's lame. Just like you.
Toe 2: You want to take this outside?
Toe 1: Um, we're stuck in socks and shoes so no. But we can do this. Right here. Right now.
Toe 2: Oh it's go time!
[Toes begin to beat the crap out of each other and bloody sock ensues]
Toe 1: Well that was dumb.
Toe 2: Yes it was. That escalated quickly. I mean that really got out of hand fast.
Toe 1: Sure did. Let's call a truce shall we?
Toe 2: Yes. I will never bite my toenail at you again sir.
This is what happens when you have an overactive imagination and nothing really to report on regarding the running front. Training continues...
Happy Tuesday, stay outta trouble.