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Don't blink or you'll miss me

I set a new land speed record on the treadmill today; four miles in 44 minutes! OK I guess that would actually be a conveyor belt speed record, since I wasn't technically running across land. Anyway, for you mathematically challenged out there, that's an 11 minute mile. Yes, I know that real runners trot along effortlessly at between six and eight miles per hour for many more miles than I do. I am painfully aware that what I do is not running, but jogging. Still, for me, an 11 minute mile is blindingly swift. I swear there were flames shooting out from the heals of my sneaks. Truthfully, I think that treadmill is in serious need of adjustment.
As a result of all that running, at whatever speed, my left Achilles tendon is sore, tight and a little inflamed tonight. See? inflamed! As in flames. I knew it! I was ON FIRE!
Poor little Crawford is suffering from rickety back legs and is in need of having her okole squeezed. In other words, it's time for the anal glands to be expunged. Now, I know I could learn to do that for her. Thanks, but no thanks. I'd rather pay a pro $20 or $30 or $50 or $100 to take care of that lovely little chore. I made her an appointment for a checkup and squirt on Friday.
I'm working on another writing assignment for the Hawaii Island Journal. It's relatively fluffy but fun. The addition clippings should help to shop any future stories around the local publications. It will be nice to have something published locally to send to editors. Most require new writers to prove themselves with a plethora of local bylines. I'd love to get a piece into Hana Hou, the magazine on Hawaiian Airlines. Hey. A girl can dream, right?
My story in the latest issue of HIJ should be available online by late next week. I'll add a link once it's up.
Gotta go rest up for yet another harrowing day tomorrow at ye ol' wine factory.
A hui hou. Aloha!

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