Sorry--Tramps deserves the credit for that.  I recognize the names and the fact that there was one, but that's as far as I get with rap.

 

Jay ran and stumpy is referencing Rapper wars. Oh boy.

 

 

I place a  bright line between my personal self and my professional self by maintaining very different FB and LinkedIn profiles, and almost never FB friend-ing colleagues unless they're really friends.  Like, we go to the theatre together and have changed each other's children's diapers.  I "friend" fairly widely on FB but keep the profile heavily locked down to the outside world.  Even so, a really thorough trawl of the my fingerprints across the internet since about 1993, from Usenet onward, would put together an alarming number of pieces, some sublimated reality I've only recognized years later, a few terrible choices, and some very bad writing.

In a major snit a couple of years ago, I cleaned out everyone I had never met in person, stalked away from running groups, and promptly regretted it.  Does "We Used to be WUTBCR" even exist any more?

And.  Yet.   Mustang Sally is just a construct.  The version of me on FB is a little closer to real, but even FB-me is still smarter than I am.  She's almost never in a bad mood except for when she's being amusingly cranky.  She sailed through her divorce, never binges on ice cream, never leaves heaps of dirty laundry on the bedroom floor, only yells witty things at her obviously well-adjusted kids, and appears to delight in an endlessly interesting string of workouts, races, and events.  She never shuts off her alarm and goes back to sleep instead of running, and I'm quite sure she has never mentioned the 10 extra pounds of flab she's carrying right now.

What a crock.  Life is messy.  Perhaps the kids will come to realize this and be both cautious about exposing the mess, but kind to obvious stupid moves by their peers.  Perhaps they'll come to understand what I'm slowly learning, that places and people where we can be genuinely authentic are rare and precious and deserve all the tender care you can give them.  Hands-on, person-to-person care and trust matter.

I'm grateful for the way this type of venue has made some of those genuine personal relationships possible.

Jeez.  That was a rant.

Incidentally, I turned off the alarm and slept through my run today.

So...as I was saying, before I was called back to work 15 minutes before my lunch break was over...what the heck was I saying...oh, yeah...my tempo run last night. I had been dreading it all day...it was my 1st week of jumping up to 10 miles of tempo and the 9 milers were giving me a hard enough time.   I even gave myself a little leeway by telling myself that I could go between a 6:50 and 6:40 pace.  But, after warming up for 2 miles in 15:56, I did the next 10 in 1:06:19....never going over 6:40.  So, with a 2 mile cool down in 15:42, I got in 14 miles in 1:37:57.  That was good, but I paid for it later.  I didn't hydrate properly before going to bed and woke up 3 times before midnight with terrible cramps in my calves.  I had to jump out of bed and walk it off while I groaned in pain...which didn't make DW very happy.  "Why do you torture yourself like that?!" I hate being scolded....and I couldn't come up with a good answer.  So, today, my calves were sore from the cramps...but I went out and tortured myself with 7 miles...but a much more reasonable 55:14.

Okay...sorry, I seem to always only talk about me, lately, but I just don't have time anymore.  See ya tomorrow!

me too mike so here's one for you.

Way to go, unnecessarily inserting annoying non-running vignettes about your running life into the lives of non-runners in your life.  Better consider taking a day off running for a dinner out or something.  Take her to someplace expensive, . .  and not a gas station.

Two old guys were sitting in a bar and one said to the other, "Look at those two old geezers over there.  That's us in 10 years".  His buddy looked at him and said, "You dummy, that's a mirror".

TomS

.

After a messy week, I was having such a great day until I read toms's supposed “mirror” joke.

.

A.  Yay Divechief.
Stopped by a major marine expo at the exposition center adjacent to the Seahawks Stadium (Century Link Field) and was immediately enthralled by a two story high diesel engine almost as big as the first house we owned and most of the fishing boats I’d worked on in those days. I was almost as much at a loss for words when one of the sales agents asked me if I had any engine needs as when a real runner would get ask me something about running back in the days when I wore shoes and looked somewhat like a runner.  When he said it produced 450 HP for tugboats and ferries, I blabbered that, “I know the chief engineer on the Wenatchee.”
“Oh, you mean dave? - he could take this baby apart
and put her back together again blindfolded.”

.

B.  Die in your sleep.
Maybe I was trying to get over the mirror story but, when I mentioned it to the owner of a nearby Japanese store, he wanted me to guess his age.  “Okay, 65?”  Nope. He is 78 and still working ever day.  Then he pointed out a joke he’d taped to the wall a long time ago:
“I hope I die peacefully in my sleep like my grandfather, . . . .
not like his screaming passengers.” 
Oh well.

.
C. Dentist.
It hasn’t bothered me since a big chunk of tooth fell out this summer when I was in Japan so I expected the worst at today’s dentist appointment. However, Dr. Dex smiled at said, “no problem, come on in on Monday we’ll fill it in as good as new.”   Better yet, the cookie dough flavored polishing after the semi-annual cleaning was topped off with a strawberry flavored fluoride treatment. Dr. Dex and I were both sophomores at the UW 50 years ago but we both even remembered what the weather was like that awful day tomorrow in our lives and our country.  I'm really happy that Caroline Kennedy just became the new U.S. Ambassador to Japan this month. 
.
D.  Mirror, mirror on the wall.
You see, I had just entered on the first floor of a mid-sized department store in the Shinbashi area I love so much in Tokyo and was walking toward the escalator which looked like it was in the middle of the floor.  Unlike the adjacent Ginza area a couple of blocks down the street, there’s not that many foreigners who get lost and wander into Shinbashi so it was a little strange seeing an older gaijin guy also walking towards the escalator from the other side.  Having lived three sojourns there, I’m always right at home so felt kind of sorry for him, especially at his age, probably lost in Shinbashi looking for the Ginza.  I was prepared to offer assistance when, right on cue, he turned and became me going up the escalator. I’ve felt sorry for people who know me ever since.

 The version of me on FB is a little closer to real, but even FB-me is still smarter than I am.  She's almost never in a bad mood except for when she's being amusingly cranky.  She sailed through her divorce, never binges on ice cream, never leaves heaps of dirty laundry on the bedroom floor, only yells witty things at her obviously well-adjusted kids, and appears to delight in an endlessly interesting string of workouts, races, and events.  She never shuts off her alarm and goes back to sleep instead of running, and I'm quite sure she has never mentioned the 10 extra pounds of flab she's carrying right now.

 

The disadvantage of adding people from here as friends on Facebook is that I'll have to stop copying stuff from here and posting it there as my own.  In the past, I would have done that with tselbs' and tet's jokes.  (I may still do it too.)

Interesting description of your FB-self, Mustang Sally. For me, I try to project the best me I can be on FB, the me I'd really like to be all the time, which also includes not saying or posting anything at times. And then I try to live like the person I'm trying to project, so there really isn't any difference between who you read and who you meet. The smile is sincere as well.