Oh man, you guys. It got HOT today. When Mom and I got to the Wetlands that Smell like a Fart it was only like 60 degrees, but it climbed up to like 67 pretty quickly. I live in the Bay Area, so when the temperature goes outside the narrow band of 58-64º, we melt. When we started running, I felt like a rock star. The sun was out, it was low tide so everything smelled like rotting fish poops, and there were lots and lots of furry and fleshy folks out to stare and bark at. So I decided that instead of doing push-ups, I’d do burpees. (If you don’t know what a burpee is, it’s a push up where you jump in the air at the end – they’re easier if you say, “WEEEEEEEEEEE!” So even though Mom pulls the audio out of all our videos so that she doesn’t have to die of embarrassment at hearing her own voice, you’ve gotta picture me saying, “WEEEEEEEEE!” every time I jump. You’ve also got to picture me counting like the Count from Sesame Street: “Vuhn! Ah’, ah’, ahh! Two! Ah’, ah’, ahh! … Tventy two! Ah’, ah’, aah!”)
Anyway. I started out doing burpees, but toward the end of our run, the temperature got above my melting point and even though my front half was jumping up, my butt half was all soft and rubbery on the ground. I think Mom was turning to liquid too, because as time went on the dried liver she was giving me was getting soggier and soggier in her hand, and I had to smack like I was trying to get peanut butter off of the roof of my mouth to swallow it. When we got to the water fountain at the end, I drank and drank and drank until the whole bay was empty. Now it’s almost 90º out there, and I have completely melted on the floor into puddle of Oscar with a tongue.
Side note: I don’t want my magnetic personality to distract too much from why we’re doing this: to raise awareness for the up to 22 veterans who commit suicide every day, and to let the veterans who are struggling know that we care.