Name the Kitty

We're into our second week of the School of Silly Walks. We've found a little park, in downtown Corralitos to practice. Yes, I said downtown Corralitos.

My walks are quite silly. There is this one walk, its sort of a goosestep meets Velociraptor, that I am particularly retarded on. Out of the corner of my eyes, I can see Michael's smile of pity and the kids on the swings are giggling. The only silly walk I can do is the grapevine. I am all over that one. But thats more dance than run. Too bad we don't dance, instead of run, when dismounting in cyclocross.

And to add insult to injury, supposedly, all these years, I have been holding my arms wrong when running.

What I want to know is, how come in all my years of jr high and high school track, no one told me about my arms? I could have fixed it back then. But now...now I am old and set in my ways. And this is how I run. I run like a bear with arms of their own free will, out reaching for butterflies or something.

Also, no one at high school track ever made me do these silly walks. Guess thats what happens when the girls track team has the chemistry teacher, or whoever else can fill in (sometimes Sister Rosalind), for their coach.

I am going to blame the Catholic Church for my inane ability to run like a bear that is reaching out for butterflies.


I would laugh right now, but my stomach is too sore from doing a zillion sit ups.

oh yeah...and the kitty still needs a name.