Running, pedophiles and birthdays, oh my!

Still running...still sweating...still trying to breathe.  It has gone from tough to easier to tougher.  Except that's not the right word for it.  Bored fits better.  Yeah, I'm getting bored.  In the habit.  But trek on, I will.  Not only because I have broadcasted to the world that I am now 'a runner' but also because if you break it down, I'd be a loser to quit.  A quitter who lost.  There are twenty-four hours in the day.  I run for only thirty minutes.  There are forty-eight sets of thirty minutes' in the day, so I only run for 1/48th of a day and only every other day.  And I'm really complaining about boredom?  Shut up.  Okay.

And someday, I shall look just like this when I run:

Unfortunately, right now, I look like this:



Moving on...it's HOT.  So hot that I now have something to blame all of my mishaps on.  Two days ago, I entered my vehicle and the thermometer read 105.  105!!!  I had to stop and fill up on gas, which is always a pain but a much heightened pain when it's so filthy hot outside.  I swiped my card before pumping and "Card Read Error".  What the...?  So I swiped it again and "Card Read Error."  Third times a charm, right?  "Card Read Error."  I looked down at my card to inspect it and that's when I realized that I was swiping my driver's license.  Just then, the Coca-Cola semi driver parked adjacent to me passed by me, laughed and said, "You're wearing two different shoes."  This, believe it or not, was on purpose.  They were the first two I pulled out of the shoe bucket and I just didn't feel like searching for their mates. 

On the bright side of things, the kids have been barely arguing at all this week because due to the sweltering heat, they just don't have the energy.  Instead, they have learned that by working together, they can come up with a way to convince me that the only place in the world we need to be is at the swimming pool.  I won't tell them that I totally agree.  If they knew this, my house wouldn't be clean.  And here's an interesting fact (okay, opinion): Much to my own surprise, the Lincoln pool crowd is much more shady and creepy than the Beatrice pool crowd.  In Beatrice, it's mostly kids that have been dropped off by their parents, a few babysitters and a few moms like me who have nothing better to do than get a free back massage from the water jets in the pool.  In Lincoln, there were still mostly kids, but also too many adult men for my liking.  And too many of them there by themselves.  No kids.  No wives.  Just creepy men, making casual conversation with young girls.  I pointed one of them out to my children and told them to steer clear of him.  Kyler pointed and said, "THAT MAN WITH THE WHITE SUNGLASSES?  WHY DO YOU THINK HE'S CREEPY?  HE LOOKS NICE."  Yeah, I used caps to show how loud he said it...but here's the thing:  the man left.  He got right out of the pool and walked through the exit door, looking suspicious and paranoid.  I doubt it was just hurt feelings.  If somebody pointed to me and said something like that, I would question it.  And Kyler was right, he didn't look creepy.  It was his behavior that tipped me off.  I'm sure this isn't all Lincoln pools, but the pool I was at and on the day I was there only confirms my constant suspicion that pedophiles will go anywhere publicly that they are allowed to be around children.  This is one of the reasons I don't attend church.  Who said that?  How did we even get onto this subject?  Oh yeah, the HEAT.  Darn that heat.  And just to stick up for myself...yeah, maaaaybe that guy wasn't a pedophile, but I'd rather be suspicious and wrong than...well, unsuspicious and right.  Also, I will be taking my kids to the swimming pool and keeping a constant watch on them until they are at least thirty years old.

In other news, Kenny has a birthday tomorrow and he was horrified to learn of his new age.  It always cracks me up and amazes me how he doesn't know how old he is.  Last month, just before my birthday, he asked how old I was going to be.  I said, "Thirty."  He said, "Huh, I didn't know we were the same age.  Always thought I was older."  I told him, "You are."  The smile faded from his face and he asked, "How old am I?"  So if you know Kenny, please wish him a happy thirty-SECOND birthday tomorrow.  Or thirtieth; maybe he'll really think he's frozen in time.  It must be rough, aging two years in only one day.  Poor guy.