One PAX hit the mean streets of Broward for a slightly elongated edition of The Clinic. Temperatures were 70 and conditions sunny. According to the police officer on stakeout in the hotel parking lot, the following might have happened….zzzzz.
Route: Circle to Peters to office parking lot to office building to drop off the kids to La Quinta to mall parking lot (hi to the people paying $100 / month to do…well…to do what we do for free), out to Broward Blvd. and reverso back home).
5.5 or so. Name, number, YHC said a few words of thanks, and good luck to my friend Omar traveling to Jamaica this week.
When exiting one’s own office building at 05:07 a.m., it’s comforting to see the security person in the parking lot (actually, it’s a little weird). But, it’s more comforting to see someone stretching in the parking lot. AWESOME. We might have our first FNG. With Pavoratti on a business trip, YHC thought The Clinic might have a visitor. But, late night activities no doubt intervened. Here was a genuine runner getting ready to exercise…and as YHC ran around that side of the lot, he saw the telltale signs of a man not preparing to run. First, the little orange glow. Then, the waft and the sweet smell. Then, the Mr. Pibb bottle. The dude was stretching, but alas, for this individual, an early morning fat one and some soda were the choices of the morning.