Actually, I don't know about you, but to put on my bad decision pants, I usually only have to complete one step. And I'm sure we all know where this is going.
Step 1: Drink.
And after that, the rest usually falls into place.
This might come as a surprise, but I had actually been training for a ten mile race. And by training, I mean eating fried chicken, drinking beers, going to Bruce Springsteen and The Dead concerts (more on that later), while occasionally lacing up my running shoes for a good run. But with water stops every mile and thousands of cheering fans along the way, Philadelphia's Broad Street Run is actually one of the most pleasant, exciting races in the country. And these days, it's usually the only race I do each year. NBD (no bid deal, mom).
This year, when I heard 27,000 people had signed up for the race (compared to last year's 19,000 and 2007's 12,000) I got a little apprehensive. Last year, I literally had to sprint to the starting line because traffic getting to the race was so bad. And then I heard it was supposed to rain.
But I was committed.
Then I went to a family reunion on Saturday. I met cousins and aunts and uncles I never knew I had. I had a beer. Which turned into six because I didn't even KNOW these people existed who like to drink beer and take off their pants and wear their underwear on their heads the SAME way I do. Which turned into getting kicked out of a gay bar some time around midnight because my cousin walked into a wall. Which turned into me, waking up on Sunday morning well after the start gun went off and cursing myself for my weak, weak ways.
Which leads me to this weekend's life lesson: STAY AWAY FROM FAMILY. THEY WILL ONLY LEAD YOU DOWN THE PATH OF DESTRUCTIVE LIFE DECISIONS.
Or possibly maybe learn how to exercise a little self control for once in your bloody life. Whatevs.