Whipped

I just got off the phone with Jen and was telling her that even though I look really tired I'm feeling good and will probably go for a run when I get home tonight. Her response was that she's not going to let me because she thinks I need more time to get over my cold. I laughed in response. Not going to let me run. Really? This is coming from a woman that apparently has Fibromyalgia or Chronic Fatigue or Lyme's Disease or some other nondescript illness that multiple doctors can't identify and yet she refuses to take any time off unless she's forced.
I think, even as she was saying it, she realized she has little control over whether or not I'll run tonight. What's she going to do hold me down? If I poke her in the ribs a few times she'll wriggle and run away and then I'm free to head out the door at a nice leisurely pace. Not going to let me run! Yea, got it.
Jen's sudden desire to hold me in lock-down reminded me of this magazine that was started by my recently engaged friend Brian. I'm guessing he won't find much business in the ultra running community but fortunately we're a small portion of the population.