Hello, my name is Squawk. I live with my dad Steve at work. Not that dad lives there, but he leaves me here when he goes home. My primary duties are to monitor and control the work area, specifically to discourage loud, irrational or exuberant behavior. One of the greatest violaters is this wacko named Dave. He occasionally breaks out in song, or tells a stupid joke. Therefore, my alert status goes from yellow to red if Dave is present.
I've had some pretty wild adventures in my young life. I've been kidnapped, had my heart broken, and yet lived to see another day. I've even had my life threatened. One time, Steve and Reed were tossing me around and Steve flipped Reed the bird. That's a lot for a little guy like me to go through.
I decided it was time for me to get in shape, and what better way to train for and then run the 25th Hood to Coast. The 25th anniversary is a big deal and I was excited. Doofus Dave was supposed to be our navigator, but he continually annoyed dad by saying things like "hmmm - we should've turned left there Steve" and "turn right at the house that used to be painted yellow". Sigh. Finally, I had to get on the dashboard and lend my own skills to the navigation of the team. Having 'flown the coop' so to speak several times, and flying south for the winters to my home in South America, I'm used to finding my way around. Little did I know what I was signing up for!
One of the more satisfying experiences of running in this race is a quaint little tradition known as "road kills". Hey, let's get honest for a minute - being a member of the bipedal, warm blooded, oviparous vertebrate group the category called road kills does not exactly give me the warm fuzzies. However, I was (somewhat) relieved to find that in this instance road kills refers to your passing another runner. In these instances it is customary to say something like "hey, you're looking good" which sounds encouraging but really means "LOSER! My wheelchair bound blue haired barely breathing grandma can run faster than you can". Oh, the same. Well, I got a road kill! Here I am, passing of all people, dad. Oh, he tried really hard but when push comes to shove chivalry dies on the wayside and it's all about beating the other runner(s) to the exchange point.
At one point in the race I realized that I just didn't have it in me to truly think I could do this on my own. Fortunately, we passed a church where I could take a moment and meditate on my motives for desiring to crush the competition. Am I wrong for thinking this way? WWPD? Yes, What Would Polly Do? Polly is my sister who when she is not in church is asking for crackers. Over and over. SOMEONE GIVE THAT BIRD A CRACKER!After the spiritual crisis I continued to run as I've never run before.
I was fortunate enough to get a sponsor, and let me tell you having the opportunity to wear some world class running shoes really helped me a lot.Well, I have to say that all of the hard work was so worth it. I flew to the finish without getting my feathers ruffled and even got a nifty finisher's medal! Boston Marathon, watch out....
