Tuesday, August 05, 2003

Just read an article in the Boston Globe about an ultramarathon held last weekend in Vermont. Whenever I get impressed with myself for running marathons, I remember that there are crazy bastards out there who do ironman triathlons and freakin' 100-mile ultramarathons, and it puts me in my place. I can't even comprehend training for an event where you'll be running for 24 hours or more. That is truly insane in the membrane.

So last night I decided to shave off my goatee. I'd had it for two-plus months, which is a long time for me. I just get bored after a while. Plus it's too damn hot for facial hair. It's funny, whenever I shave off some facial growth, I look like a little kid. Well, a little kid with graying hair, but you know what I mean. Anyway, here I am thinking I look radically different, and I go to work and nobody noticed. Not that I'm expecting a party to be thrown in my honor, but you'd think someone would notice. It's kind of a subtle change, I guess. Of course, I could grow another one in a couple of days if I wanted to. I am what is known in the business as a "hairy bastard."

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