Sometimes I forget that I have people that actually enjoy spending time with me.
In general, I assume people can take me or leave me.
But every now and then, my people remind me. That they want me around.
K-Rob-D thought I’d been avoiding them.
Like, she for real believed that shit.
No.
Let me be clear. I’m never avoiding you.
I’m working. Or I’m lazying. Or I’m Januarying. But I’m never avoiding.
This weekend has been my reminder.
When I explained that I couldn’t go to the game Friday night because I was spending Valentines with my girls, Ghost asked why they were single.
(Oddly enough, he didn’t ask why I was. People seem to be clear on why I am…I guess?)
So I asked them. How shall I best respond?
I mean, I didn’t have to ask. I already know. They’re picky about who they spend their time with. Because they can be. And they should be. They bring way too much to the table to hand their time over to just any random dude who isn’t as exceptional as they are.
But as we sat in Panera. Eating our $20 lettuce sandwiches. Playing Evil Apples. And giggling over phrases like “scrotum ornaments” and “farting into a balloon.” Fall Risk commented…yep. Not a clue why we’re all single…
Then. As we sat in the movie theater. Watching a vomit scene. And Rogue started giggling. Uncontrollably. Like a twelve year old boy.
And Fall Risk and I started giggling along with her.
And we couldn’t stop.
I mean, that doesn’t scream classy female.
But also. They were the best Valentines date I’ve ever had.
Because these ladies are fucking amazing.
And hilarious.
And Fall Risk even brought us chocolates.

(The note and K-Y coupons came from another hot single chick. I know all the hot single chicks. I’m not sure why anyone would even need a man. Surrounded by all these hot single chicks. Except maybe to take advantage of those coupons…)
But seriously. These people of mine.
This morning we celebrated Tiny Brazilian’s 40th birthday.
By running.
North Fucking Mountain.

And I know I look kinda happy there.
But this was taken at the end. When I was mere yards from my car. That would take me to food.
The first to 10 1/2 miles of that run were pure misery for me.
Because I was late getting there.
So I started a solid 10 minutes behind everyone else.
And busted my ass trying to catch up with them.
And if North Fucking Mountain is mildly pleasant when walking. It’s sheer fucking hell when running. On a fucked up arch and ankle.
So many rocks.
But it led to a CR coming down Grouse.
Which really only happened because I could hear the Tiny Brazilian’s voice carrying up the mountain. And I sent out the call of the trail runner. And they called back.
I didn’t actually reach them until the fire road. And by that time, I was spent. With Deer still to come.
But when I did catch them. They adjusted their pace to accommodate my wasted legs.
Because they are excellent people.
How could they possibly think I’ve been avoiding that level of excellence?
OT thought I’d started dating.
Not sure who he thought I’d be dating.
But no, OT.
I’ve just been alternating between working extra jobs and lazying on my couch.
But the draw of celebrating my favorite American Brazilian and the threat of OT drawing even on the North Fucking Mountain Challenge was enough to kick my motivation back in.
At least until it rains for three days straight again…
But seriously. I couldn’t just sit my ass on the couch today. While GJB was out beasting an ultra. With the flu.
Avoiding?
Nah.
Look at them.

You don’t avoid that level of excellence. You embrace them. Against your breast. Because that’s what Tiny Brazilian likes.