Some opinions can be very brief. Remember these?

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Jack has a plan. It scares me.

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Circus freak confession time: I have extra bones in my ankles.  It’s called Accessory Navicular Syndrome. I love to accessorize with cartilage, and I like to think they make me just a little bit special. How many people can say they’re extra navicular? Evidently, there are only 55 members of the People With Accessory Naviculars Are Awesome group on Facebook.

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Damn, it feels good to be a gangsta.

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I need to confess something to my readers. I did it, and I don’t care if it’s cheating. It makes me a happier runner and it’s cut heaps of minutes from my daily routine. I weighed the pros and cons and decided to go for it because I really have nothing to lose, except an amount of money that shall remain unspoken.

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Is it seriously still 90 degrees outside?

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Whether or not it would be awesome to wipe a failed romance clean off your memory is debatable. But an inexplicably really bad run? I’d definitely, 100% like to purge ‘em like they never happened. I don’t care about lessons and growth and all that junk. I want to forget my failures, thankyousir.

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I’m running Falmouth this weekend and am super excited because my list of goals is both noble and achievable:

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The women I coach call me ‘Kristina.’ The men I coach call me the ‘High Priestess.’ And there it is, the essence of my highly refined gender-specific training approach.

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To hell with running, I want to join Cirque du Soleil.

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