On I went, out of the wood, passing the man leading without knowing I was going to do so. Flip-flap, flip-flap, jog-trot, jog-trot, curnchslap-crunchslap, across the middle of a broad field again, rhythmically running in my greyhound effortless fashion, knowing I had won the race though it wasn't half over, won it if I wanted it, could go on for ten or fifteen or twenty miles if I had to and drop dead at the finish of it, which would be the same, in the end, as living an honest life like the governor wanted me to. -Alan Sillitoe, "Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner"

Saturday, January 23, 2010

I don't know, NYSC

I'm not sure how I feel about this poster hanging in the locker room at my gym. I guess I'm slightly more comfortable risking athlete's foot than I am with the completely naked women blow drying their hair in the locker room.



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