Oh My Gobbles

Morning Workout
RUN
30 minutes
Heart Rate Zone: Lactate Threshold (Zone 2)

SWIM
Main Set: 20 x 100 meters with 30 seconds rest in-betwixt

Random Comments: The Top 10 Things that were annoying me during today’s morning workout:
• Hip flexor (left)
• IT band (right)
• Hip flexor (right)
• Calf (left)
• Arms (all of them)
• Shoulders (all of them too)
• Callous on palm at base of pinky (left hand)
• Forehead right above eye (right eye)
• Uncontrollable ankle flexibility (right)
• Tendon right below buttock (left cheek)

All in all, I’d say it was a pretty decent workout.
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My niece is about three years old and is arguably the cutest, most well-behaved child in modern history. She started swimming recently or, shall I say, she started going to the pool recently but apparently she's a little too scared to jump in the water. However, she puts on her swimsuit and goggles, all rarin’ to go. But she doesn’t call them goggles, because she’s got a tough time saying that word. That's the cute thing. She calls them “gobbles”. Understanding how painfully precious that sounds, Cat and I have taken to calling them gobbles as well. So let me tell you about my gobble problem.

I got out of the pool after my swim this morning and, as is standard operating procedure, I grabbed my poolside clothing and began walking to the men’s locker room to dry off and get changed. As I was walking over, I passed a few young ladies walking the other way. We looked each other in the eye as they each flashed me a glowing smile. Of course they’re smiling at me, I thought to myself. After all, I am a strapping young lad, what with my streamlined swim shorts and just-out-of-the-pool slicked back hair. I whipped out my charming “thanks for making me feel good” smile as I walked on by.

Ahhh, it's good to be king.

Feelin’ pretty darn positive about myself, I walked into the over-crowded locker room, laid down my belongings and started changing into my warm dry clothes. As I finished dressing and began walking out to meet Cat, I took a glance over at the mirror to make sure my hair didn’t look too ridiculous. I’m not sure who I saw on the other side of that mirror, but it was no reflection of me. This being staring back at me was deranged looking - like the Elephant Man's thinner, slightly less scary looking brother. The awkward looking gentleman in the mirror had hair that was in such disarray it made bedhead and pillowface seem like black tie attire.

I stepped closer to the mirror to face this monster and that was where the coup d’grace disgraced me ("the coup d'graw disgrawsed me"). My gobbles, oh my gobbles, they had bore indentations in my face. As thick and prominent as a newly minted tattoo was the outline of my gobbles around my eyes, over my forehead, across my nose. I looked ridiculous. I felt ridiculous. I had taken off the gobbles five minutes ago, but apparently the gobbles hadn't taken off me.

I quickly took my Yankee cap and crunched my hair inside. I pushed the hat as low across my face as it could possibly go, hoping I could look like that kid Donald from Fat Albert who's just got the lips sticking out of his hat. I dropped my head to the ground and sauntered out of the locker room to meet Cat.

I'm not quite sure, but I think I saw those young ladies out of the corner of my eye pointing and smiling.