Cowboy Ugly American

So down, down, down
like a ball of flames,
to the rotten core filling up with names
of hypocrites
what a massive list,
don't exclude yourself from it.
-Chuck Ragan

Some catching up.  On Sunday I ran 4.5 miles.  It kinda sucked.  I wanted to run 6, but - oh, nevermind.  Anyway, after my run I caught a flight to Dallas.  There were a couple of people on the flight who fit the following profile: by themselves, decked out in Cowboys gear, clearly on their way to the Sunday Night game.  And for one quick second I thought "that's weird, flying to another city, by yourself, to go to a football game".  And then I remembered.  Me too.  But my case was different - I was going for work (and I wasn't wearing one shred of Cowboys gear - I was wearing my Eli Manning jersey).  OK - I don't have one of those either.

Before the game I ate at Boston's, which is the US version of a Canadian restaurant named Boston Pizza.  I'm not making that up.  There really is a Canadian-based restaurant chain named after a US city (not particularly known for it's pizza) that has been so successful that they started a US version of it.  This is either the weirdest thing ever - or just the restaurant equivalent of me.  Except that it is sort of lame.  Hey - no adding your own punchline here.

At the game, I sat near the top of the stadium and it was like being in the world's greatest sports bar.  I sat with a bunch of other people watching a game on a ginormous TV.  On punts and kickoffs I could watch the field - but other than that the 160-foot TV was much better.  So here's the thing - I don't like the Cowboys.  But, of course, my nemesis Eli threw 3 terrible picks and made sure the Cowboys won. 

Then today I ran 3 miles.  Still not waking up early.  Still struggling.  362.5 for the year.