It’s Friday the 13th.
Chunk slept in, and I got up at 4 this morning, on purpose.
Tomorrow when I don’t have to get up she will be jumping on me like a trampoline by 4am.
Approximately 7-9 out of every 100 people around the world are unfortunate enough to suffer from a condition called paraskevidekatriaphobia: the fear of Friday the 13th.
I couldn’t find my running shoes. I found other running shoes, but they didn’t have my orthotic in them. I finally found them – in the closet.
Who the hell puts their running shoes in the closet??
Now my closet stinks.
Personally, I do not suffer from a condition called paraskevidekatriaphobia: the fear of Friday the 13th.
I was out of Powerade.
I stopped at the gas station to get some, but actually I didn’t stop, I just kept driving because the gas station – 25 feet off the exit of a highway – was CLOSED.
I got on the freeway to go to the track to run and it started raining.
Country Music star Taylor Swift actually considers 13 to be her lucky number.
That’s OK, I don’t mind running in a little rain.
Then it started pouring.
Well, I’m going to get wet sweating anyway.
I would consider seeing Taylor Swift in concert to be a very unfortunate thing. What’s the term for people who don’t like country music?
Then the lightning started.
OK, I’ll head to the Center.
Did you know that many tattoo parlors offer tattoos for $13 on Friday the 13th? I don’t really know why.
Dammit. Don’t have my shuffle.
Now I’m going to have to spend an hour on the treadmill squinting at the closed captioning that I can’t actually see because I refuse to wear my trifocals and only have on bifocals.
Not out of vanity, but because I constantly trip on the stairs when wearing the trifocals, and can’t see the computer screen even tho that was the intention.
I paid full price for my little Runner Girl tattoo. I like her.
Where’s my phone? I could listen to tunes on it.
On the counter. In the kitchen. At home.
I park and go into the Center.
According to Legend, the British government sought to disprove the myths surrounding Friday the 13th, so they commissioned a ship called the H.M.S. Friday and embarked it on its first mission; on Friday the 13th…. and it was never seen again. Probably the same place my phone, shoes and keys have all ended up at various times.
I leave and go back to my car.
I now have my keys and can get into the Center.
I forgot my towel.
Get off the treadmill and get a towel from the desk.
There are three Friday the 13ths in 2012. Jan. 13, Apr. 13, and July 13. Ironically, they are all exactly 13 weeks apart. I’m sure this means something.
Read closed captioning about Joe Paterno for 57 of the 58 minutes I run because the ESPN CC is in CAPS and it’s the only TV I can see clearly.
Pretty. Damn. Tired. of. Paterno.
It doesn’t actually scare everyone. In Italian popular culture, Friday the 17th—not the 13th—is considered a day of bad luck. Coincidentally, Italians generally consider 13 to be a lucky number.
Leave Center in pouring rain.
Stop at McD’s.
Nope, no stop at McD’s, there isn’t one around here.
Author Mark Twain was once the 13th guest at a dinner party. Despite a friends warning not to go, saying, “It was bad luck,” he went anyway. Twain later said they only had enough food for 12. Probably he wasn’t able to find a McDonald’s on his way home, either.
Work with Killer.
Entire body is sore.
Why do I feel so weak?
According to UK’s The Mirror, New York resident Daz Baxter chose to stay in bed on Friday the 13th in 1976 in order to avoid bad luck. Unfortunately his apartment floor collapsed and he fell six stories to his death. Guess the floor felt rather weak, too.
Killer asks, what did you have for breakfast?
Oh. Yeah. um, nothing.
NOTHING? You woke up four hours ago, ran 5.5 miles and have worked out for an hour and you’ve had nothing to eat??
Yeah…um…McD’s, it went invisible. I couldn’t find it.
According to Smithsonian Magazine “fear of the #13 costs American a billion dollars per year in absenteeism, train and plane cancellations, and reduced commerce on the 13th of the month.”