On or about August 11, 2013, you came into the City to save me from the ravages of the Rings and promised to come in every few weeks to coach me in a new fitness regimen. Your torture of choice? Running. See, further,
SIDEBAR: Since you are a lawyer and a litigator, no less, I can indulge that lawyer-istic bull shit that makes non-lawyers sooooo annoyed.
It has been almost 45 days (don’t count, I will not be moved), since you have come in to run with me and save me from the curse of the Rings.
Since then, I have run three miles twice a week and I have completed the Rings. Ok, not with the finesse that I imagined, but now I can fine tune my skills, having accomplished my goal.
I let you know whenever I am running. Which is a misnomer. I schlep, I pant, I look like I am heaving my last breath. But you would not know. Because you are TEXTING it in, with “go! go! go!” and “you are amazing!”.
Even the family is wondering, “where is CLSFOB?” No, no, really. We are good with it.
OKOKOKOK. Lots of Wingaters are going to read this. And, dear CLSFOB, you are first and foremost, a camp friend. OMG, you are in serious trouble. Once a month, could you come in? Also, there is a reunion coming up in November in NYC and be there or be talked about.
And, you are the one who spread the rumor about whether I had face work or a boob job. Even a camper I NEVER knew at Wingate knew there was a “controversy”.
And it took Janet2OB — who had never felt another woman’s breasts and didn’t really know what she was feeling for — to announce that mine were real. And Wingate campers who are now doctors (we are so proud, Sam and Julia, among others) knew there was no ‘face” work.
No, really, I am good with it. And I am even honest about how much I run. Nah, I am lying.
So you have until the next reunion to make me into a marathoner, or I will master the finesse of the Rings. And it will be discussed and parsed at that reunion. Worse still, live on in the annal of Wingate alumnae FOREVER. And Goldie may even be in town for that November reunion. Your choice.
But this texting it in? Gotta stop. I would rather work on SOB’s peach pit ring.