The Noble Art of Spitting
Before I became a ‘serious’ runner, I would begrudgingly tag along when Mad Dog went for his A.M. jog. Oh, the price of love and devotion! When the sparkling conversation went flat, I’d grab a handful of berries off the local wild cherry trees lining the path, stuff them into my mouth and, in rapid fire, spit them…at Mad Dog. Obnoxious, I know, but at least it helped pass the time. Now this tale has two happy endings – at least for me: Mad Dog stopped inviting me along for his morning trots, (Gee, I wonder why?) and, little did I know, my once crass behavior would one day serve me well in a much classier endeavor.