I got started late.
I was working on the Thesis for seven hours straight.
I decided to break at 7PM and go for a quiet run by myself.
I ran across campus.
I looked back, no one had followed me so I ran toward Scaife-Schenley University. I ran along the path of Hollywood star graduates of the drama school.
My first mile time sucked but my second mile time was good. I ran deep into the woods when I heard a voice.
“You got thin again. You look awesome. Your pecs are back. Your lactating Bettie Page nana breasts are gone, but you are sweating like a shit-covered pig.”
It was ‘The Stalker!’
“How long have you been following me?”
“I was in the next stall in the men’s room when you were changing your zesty, yeasty del.ic.io.us massive pungent adult diaper.”
She was obviously still insane.
The three mile time was atrocious. The useles MapMyRun app had paused again so I had to use my German watch.
“It took me 30 days to get back to BMI Normal. The weight thing is an endless struggle. It’s like a drug addiction.”
I missed the 5k time entirely as I sweated uncontrollably in the savage twilight humidity in the shadows of the park trail.
“I just don’t eat much. I save my appetite for other things, you pungent freak.”
Four mile time was awful. We made it back to the University.
We went into my office where I turned on both fans and stripped almost completely. The Stalker stripped to her sweaty, yeasty, reeking panties.
“F@&$ me you useless moron.” She said.
“Verona Dark Roast?”
Peace be the Botendaddy