If Only They Kept Diaries: Roadrunner.
Up early. Ran like hell. No sign of coyote. Ate. Fidgeted. Ran like hell.
Up early. Ran (speed work). Trompe l’oeil master class, 10 to noon. Meaning to push beyond highway-disappearing-into-tunnel, tried highway-disappearing-into-ballet-class (after Degas). Results unsettling. Light lunch. Coyote assembling whirlybird device (rotor, dynamite, etc.) in box canyon. Listens to Jimmy Buffett. Ran like hell. Barn swallows over for drinks.
Up early. Put in call to legal team about slapping coyote w/ restraining order. Same old same old— plaintiff shows no signs of emotional distress. Maybe if their guano turned lavender … Didn’t check on coyote but Buffett still echoing out of canyon. Pilates class depressing, might go back to hot yoga. Bad day. Broke training bigtime w/ tequila shooters.
Woke to sound of whirlybird overhead. Ran coyote into mountainside; fireworks wasted in daytime. Whirlybird parts everywhere. Jogged home. Appetite good at lunch. Worked on upper body in p.m.—Bowflex, half-hour on the light bag. Drank a little.
Up early, not feeling 100 percent. Headache. Sore throat (sound like a Daewoo!). Runs. Did a little light roadwork, took it easy. Hard to stay cocky, perky. Coyote said to be fine but smells like brimstone. Sharks say coyote likely to countersue. Bring it.
Slept in, then wind sprints. Had enough of Jimmy Buffett. Coyote over goth phase. Practiced running-off-cliff trick, put in call to David Blaine. Bowels better. Jumped rope in p.m. till iPod battery died. Honk returning. Drank alone.
Up early. Too quiet. Coyote suddenly roaring down out of canyon w/ rocket pack on back. Fair chase. Ran him into mountainside. Created highway-disappearing-into-Gauguin-like-paradise illusion (in < 2 sec.). Blaine’s people called, insist running-off-cliff trick is no trick. Whatever. Light speed work in p.m. Shooters.
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