A Tale of a Wardrobe Folly....

A warm southern breeze gently blew across the dry marching fields as we concluded our meeting this evening with the young Frugelhorn player's parentage. Tonight's meeting was quite boisterous due to our discussions of uniform design. I presumed that my plan of gayly colored Lederhosened uniforms would show our appreciation for the classic Frugelhorn players of our distant pass. However, a strong contingent seemed set on more traditional Frugelhorn attire. With reluctance I relinquished my firm stance to display a spirit of friendly cooperation and to also get the meeting to a state of completion that would allow me to eventuate my nightly dash. I bid all in attendance a good evening and took off with frantic energy into the darkly night..
I had decided earlier in the day that I would run the same route as I ran this Tuesday past. I desired to see if my recent training consistency was assisting me in my return to my pre-surgery below average pace and to also set a benchmark on my ill progress.
At the 1 mile mark, I noticed that my pace was almost a minute and 30 seconds faster than Tuesday's run and thus decided to see if I could maintain this pace without causing a hinderance upon my immediate health. At mile 2, I reached a section I affectionately call Mile 2 Hill (or sometimes Mt. Regurgitation) which is a steady 50 foot climb over the entire 2nd mile. This is usually where I spend a goodly amount of time cursing my existence. Upon completion of mile 2, I took notice that I had only slowed 45 seconds per mile! At this time I felt a personal course record was within my feeble grasp and I gamely powered through the remaining 2.1 miles with dogged determination as passersby cheered me on! I was indeed in a state of excited ecstacy.
Upon reaching the conclusion of tonight's jaunt, I felt happily content that I had finished the course almost 5 minutes and 30 seconds faster than previous runs! I am thusly gaining confidence that my bizaare training methods may enable me to DFL in my future competitions.
Before I walked into the house I took notice of my current attire and cursed loudly to the heavens and thrashed wildy in the yard, ripping the very clothes that were upon me in ceremonial disgrace! Apparently in my haste to begin my nightly run, I had somehow forgotten to change out of the Lederhosenry I was modeling in for the Frugelhorn parentage! (read again if necessary)... Gasp! It appears the raucous mob was not yelling out words of encouragement when I hurriedly departed our gathering. They were instead attempting to derail me from certain embarrassment from my fellow citizens! This explains the honking and exclamations I incurred upon my journey as I pushed my efforts beyond what was previously possible. While on my route with deeply concentration, I thought my fellow denizens were encouraging me as they drove by and I would give them a hearty wave and snarling smile and then with a quick hop, lower my head and continue my run displaying fearless steadfastness in a display of gratitude for their unsolicited support. For I even jumped up and clicked my heels together several times in an attempt to entertain several stopped vehicles as I crossed many intersections. In reality, now I realize they were questioning my sanity and not cheering on my effort and dedication after all! I truly hope that I do not become a feature of the local gazettes as I remember many vehicles stopping to photograph me.
Alas! I have gone from a sporting, kingly man to a dawdling jester in a matter of minutes. I am surely cursed and must dig deep within my resources in order to successfully rebound from tonight's shocking events.
I sadly have attached a screen shot of what will go down in history as the Lederhosen 4.1.
I plan not to run tomorrow so I can spend time contemplating my previous wardrobe folly and I will look ahead with great anticipation hoping that my trail run on Saturday morning will not be a career ending debauchery.