No matter what I do, I'm going to die, and it's not going to be pretty when I do. Until then, I'll be running—even though
many people out there think it's bad for my knees. The only running that I've seen that is consistently bad for someone's knees
is the kind that football players do during a game, although this usually involves very large, quick men throwing themselves at you. Even though
Vanderlei Cordeiro de Lima was dragged off the course by a large man wearing a kilt during the 2004 Olympic marathon (which de Lima was leading),
this rarely ever happens. Running actually makes the muscles in your legs stronger, which supports the knees.
The most dangerous things I've encountered running were a raised manhole cover, a drunken college student, and a pitbull. The manhole cover
tripped me in front of thousands of people at the Vermont City Marathon, the drunk nearly tore my arm off when I gave him a high-five, and the pitbull
nearly tore my calves from my legs as it chased me over a fence on a public street. I felt embarrassed after the trip, stupid after the high-five,
and angry after jumping over the fence (at the owner of the dog and the dog). I'm over it all...I think.
I'm sure if I die while running, someone out there will read about it and say "Ya see, running's bad for you." As far as I can tell, since we all
die, it seems that life is bad you. Running's the poison I choose.
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Crusted Salt comics by Jimmy Brunelle