“I am back under BMI Normal! Do you know why? Because I ate right and I ate less than I used to.” I said proudly or proudly said… who the f@&$ knows fine points of grammar? I just don’t care.
“I want to see if I can still run an 8:00 mile. It’s been a while.” I said.
“I don’t know, wise Botendaddy.” Responded the Caribbean Queen. “Heart rate. If you aren’t used to the pace and haven’t tried to run fast for a while, it will be difficult.”
“Well, I ran under 8:00 three times last year. But each time it was on either a dead flat or a slight downhill the entire way. I also was about 8-10 pounds lighter.”
I stated, pondering each such run.
“OK let’s see.”
We took off at full speed, but I wasn’t up on my toes, and I didn’t feel super-light like whenever I last ran fast.
“Half mile – 4:02, we are not going to make it. Lucky to break 9:00 mile, I fear.” The CQ looked leaner than she used to.
“You look leaner than you used to, CQ.”
“I took your advice Yon’ Botendaddy. Used MyFitnessPal, checked my BMR, low calorie diet is all. I lost 50 pounds in a year.”
Said the CQ. She had quite a nice, yet still voluptuous body for a tall girl.
“You look good. Let’s be honest. Why do I not have to acknowledge the obvious? You are hot as 84115 and I want to f&$k you right here right now, let’s go into the woods and f&$k. I’m not kidding, young Jamaican broad.”
We hit the two mile at 19:06. Very solid and well under old man APFT standards.
“I predict that the Penguins will win game 7 in double-overtime tonight, probably 3-2. I have tickets. There’s this guy who likes me. He’s independently wealthy. He has season tickets. So I’m going to stop f&$king you. You’re disgusting anyway. You make me feel so dirty. When I think of your withered, old, white yanqui devil flesh drooling all over me as you culturally appropriate my Island body and violate me with your oppressive hot spermatozoa. Ah the smell of it!” Pontificated the CQ.
Three miles under 30:00. Barely… no 30 minute 5k today. 31:02 not great but ok for pavement. We finished with 3.76 miles.
“Listen, my new boyfriend, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Let’s get in your corporate hot tub in the Lear Jet hangar and f@&k!”
“Iced Hazelnut Latte?”
Peace be the Botendaddy