4.1 miles
34 min.
100° heat index (until I got there and the temperature dropped a good 15 degrees suddenly, a harbinger of the game's outcome)
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Ran myself to the playoffs tonight. That's right playoffs...for kickball. (I'm only capable of playing kicking-based games.) And no, our team did not win. And yes, we were knocked out of the playoff race by a fancypants bald old man who thought he was (insert good MLB pitcher's name) and pitched a spinning fast pitch that was practically unkickable. And no, I'm not bitter, but for a game as inane and childish as KICKball, you'd think a team would want to let the game focus on kicking and not pitching. Otherwise, the kids would have called it throwball or pitchball or fat-idiot-fancy-spinball. The other team clearly had lost their inner kids.
So to celebrate the Maestros' still vibrant inner kids, we went and got drunk, just like little kids do.
Oh yea, the run was fine.
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