I had the brilliant idea of running about twice the distance I normally run this week, and I really dorked up my knee. I’m able to walk, albeit barely, with all the grace of Frankenstein’s monster. If Frankenstein’s monster had a slight limp. A friend of mine, a former runner now in his 70s, hit me with this wisdom: “Never ego run”. Good call.
So as I lay here with my leg in the air, let’s talk about this week. This challenging (read: the rookies are good) year continues. My gut, usually dependable, now wears a bicycle helmet and a drool cup full time.
I can’t get my head around any better pick than Matt Moore this week. He’s hurtish (ribs) and not really all that greatish when he’s healthyish. The adversary pulled the trigger on Tim Tebow, and I hate him more than usual for that pick. (Kidding, I don’t hate him. Not any more than usual.)
Defensively, I like Washington at the moment. However, Buffalo’s “home” game is in Toronto, so that’s kind of throwing me. The adversary is staying with St. Louis.
And then there’s my knee: (Oh sorry, that’s a 1996 Oldsmobile Ciera Wagon. But you get the idea.)