Poor Dumb Runners

So, Sunday morning I get up, take a shower, and get ready to head to the Mecca that is Pflugerville so I can help judge at my brother-in-law’s martial arts tournament. No big deal. Done it more than a few times before.

Then I go to get in the car and remember that my street is part of the Austin Marathon route.

Yippee.

So, I call my sister to let her know I won’t be making it out without engaging in some vehicular homicide, and then I grab my copy of Tim Lebbon’s Beserk and start reading. Sunday begins.

Y’know, I don’t begrude these poor, stupid people who think running 26 miles without being chased is a good idea, but damn, they’re slobs. It was rainy yesterday morning, and apparently a big black garbage bag is the Austin rain-slicker of choice. How do I know this? Because the runners had discarded these black plastic monstrocities all up and down my street. I wish I could have caught the bastard who dumped their garbage bag in my yard, because I’m pretty sure a flying tackle would have thrown him off his best time. Get what I’m saying?

Have a nice Monday.