Until a few days ago, I was a bit ambivalent about the annual Jumping In The Mon On New Year’s Day ritual, but as the day approaches, I’m swinging back towards really wanting to carry on the tradition. And so I need your help. Mrs. Crappy has to work on New Year’s Day, and won’t… Read More swimming.
I know a ton of people who ran in the Pittsburgh Marathon last weekend — full, half, veterans and first-timers. And I’m proud of each and every single one of you. No matter what the time, you all killed it last week. And let’s be honest: I’m also jealous as hell. I was supposed to… Read More on your mark.
We’ve started racking up points in the Seventh Annual Uncle Crappy NCAA Final Four Challenge (Brought To You By Bocktown); we’ve also figured out that we have a pretty good number of entries that just ain’t going anywhere. I’ve broken these down by points and those who have more points to earn. Let’s take a… Read More blutarsky time.
I — we — had a good morning. Mrs. Crappy and I set off from the parking lot along the North Shore Trail a little after 9 this morning. Eight and a half miles later, I returned to the car. Mrs. Crappy? She did five miles, running most of the way. I am pleased, for… Read More nipples.
About a mile into my run tonight, I started feeling a pain at the top of my right leg. Actually, that’s not right. At first, it just felt tight. That turned to a pain, and got sharper and sharper by the minute. It was warm tonight, warmer than any day I had run on… Read More doubt.
OK, not really, but that’s probably how each entrant in the Seventh Annual Uncle Crappy NCAA Final Four Challenge (Brought To You By Bocktown) felt after the basketball-related carnage this weekend. The upsets in the first round were a thing of legend this year, but as it turned out, they didn’t mean that much to… Read More devastation.
Uncle Crappy 