The Power of One (aka OFL)

I recently discovered the one true reason why you should never train for a marathon. Unfortunately, I discovered this at six o’clock in the morning after a night of margaritas at Marix Tex Mex Café. And while there are several reasons why you should never run 26.2 miles--like having to train for nine months with a group of silky short extremists--not to mention the 6AM start on Saturday mornings regardless of how much you’ve had to drink the night before--this reason stuck out above the rest.

It was just after six o’clock in the morning when we started out on our training run. Ten minutes later the realization hit me--only it wasn’t a sudden realization. It was more like a slow creeping wad of cotton rolling up the sweat on my inner thigh. Yanking my cotton shorts down at Mile 1, I realized I was sinking my own battleship. Not only was I trying to keep up with my considerably taller and more athletic friend, I was attempting an eight-mile run with a group a marathon-heads who were stuck on a natural high. Needless to say, I didn’t fit it.

As we rounded the corner, I could feel my irritation mounting because my cotton shorts were now so far up my leg--but just my right leg--that they clung to my underwear. But before I could properly adjust the problem, I froze to a complete stop because it hit me: I had one fat leg. The OFL, enough said.

So, is it wrong to name my next drink the OFL?

You decide.