Ole!

I have to confess. Throughout my adult life, I've had a secret desire to Run the Bulls at Pamplona before I die. I know this is a fundamentally stupid pastime and I don't really need a lecture about it. There's just a cool, hipster aura to tweaking a raging blood-maddened bull wearing an all white ensemble with a beret. Maybe I've read too much Hemingway.

Recent events, however (See the BBC Video of the outcome of the recent Running) have maybe turned me off of the idea forever. Probably to the profound relief of Drey, who thinks the idea is ludicrous.

Considering how winded I felt chasing the train across the parking lot this morning, I may just not have the speed I once did, even if I did train up.



So my guts are safe, world. Another youthful dream shattered!