So last night, on the telephone…*

My dad and I spent an hour discussing the various things that make Sharon (or “the 8s”) different than the other Cylons. Seriously.
Then there was this:
Him: So I figured out there’s only one thing left I haven’t done in this life.
Me: Oh yeah?
Him: Win a marathon. So I’m going to do it!
Me: Wait, did you say “run” a marathon?
Him: No. WIN a marathon.
Me: Well. Win for your age group, right?
Him: NO! Win. Win the whole thing.
Me: Well, good luck beating the Kenyans! Do you realize how fast you have to run to win a marathon?
Him: Yeah, that’s true. They’ll be some tough competition.
Me: It’s very coincidental you bringing up running. I just started trying to run again, but it’s one of those “go from being a couch potato to someone who can actually run for 20 minutes” things where you start really gradually alternating running and walking..
Him: That sounds good! Send me the instructions for that!
Me: OK, Marathon Winner.

All this from a 6261 year old man (whoops, that doesn’t happen until August) who I’m pretty sure the last time he actually RAN ON PURPOSE was sometime in the late 60s when he took running as part of his P/E credit in college and (so I was told) puked his guts out after every run. Oh, and there was that time a few years ago where he was playing softball with the youth group, ran for base, and SLID, and threw his rotator cuff out.
*Said, of course, to the rhythm of “so one time, at bandcamp”

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