Slow

Boy am I slow. In more ways than one. The other day I was chatting with my niece, and it came up that she ran a 5K the past weekend. I asked her how she did, and she said she was slow. She said she did it in 38 minuets, but she was dressed up as a Christmas present.

Here is were we get the first example of me being slow. I ran 5 miles yesterday after work, and it took me 1 hour and 15 minutes. Just to tell you how slow that is, my sister mocked me. My sister!

 

The second example of my being slow happened last night and today. Last night while I was in my garage I noticed my old helmet. I’ve been meaning to put it in the truck so I can wear it when I also need to wear my beanie (it is a loser fitting helmet than my current one). My hands were full, and I had locked the truck and put the keys in my pocket. Instead of digging the keys out and putting the helmet in the truck, I put it on the roof (the roof is eye level, I will see it). This morning as I left for work I did not see it (probably because it is 5 o’clock in the morning, and pitch black in the garage). I got to work and went in side, not seeing or thinking about a helmet. The only reason I am thinking about it for this blog is that as I got in my truck to go home (actually go to the coffee shop) i saw my helmet wedged in my roof rack. It survived a 30 mile drive on the interstate at 70 mph (I know that's not very slow driving).

I guess that not only am I slow, but I’m lucky. Well you know what they say, “Un-lucky in love, lucky in not losing your back-up helmet.”