12 PAX chose to avoid the fartsack, witness Bartwurst arrive early and wonder about the status of Paper Jam at the most recent edition of Blakovery.
With a stern command and no disclaimer, we were off to run the Reverse Flat Branch Route.
Just do this in reverse:
Today I officially became a runner. How did this happen you may ask? A runner is born when that person is about 20 minutes into a run and gastrointestinal pain usually associated with too many tacos hits him hard. However, instead of checking to see if the Bi-Lo was open, he continues the run with optimism (sometimes called delusion) that he can make it to the woods, his house or back to Blakeney. He ventures into a neighborhood and finds himself in the middle of nowhere. Nowhere in SOB Land is defined as the middle of a neighborhood with only houses in sight. It is at that point he knows he is not making it more than 5 feet. He is clearly in a dilemma. What does he do? He takes the only option presented to him. A sewer grate next to the curb in a dark section of the street. He hopes no one drives or walks by since he is wearing a bright yellow shirt and long white socks. The movement is faster than a Frasier PR and he is back on track, stopping at McDonalds to make sure all is well and showing up in time for the last 90 seconds of stretching.
Thanks Fleetwood for leading the stretching and taking us out.
Never a dull moment at Blakovery.
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