Make Mine Mike

I was supposed to continue my "On the Lot" rant with tales of my own pitching experience -- and I will eventually -- but just like that stupid show, I'm changing the format without notice. Maybe my next post will suddenly have a hot big-breasted host who can't read the teleprompter.

But I wanted to get in one more blog entry before the end of the month. I spent June with the goal of exercising every day, and once I go for a run this morning, mission accomplished. So that's why I haven't been on the internet much lately -- because at fitness/self-torture I've been Cal friggin' Ripken.

My girlfriend has been doing the same thing, and I'm really proud of her. Adelphia has been going to her aerobics classes or running up at the Rose Bowl, while I've been pumping iron at the gym or pounding the pavement down by the beach. In other words, we're both exhausted.

Or just sore. For me, I blame all my aches and pains on wardrobe malfunctions. No star-encrusted boob popping out, but like the hoopla surrounding that non-event, they're somewhat irritating.

My hands are completely callused, and for no other reason than my workout gloves seem to serve no purpose. And even though I bought new running shoes and cushioned insoles, my feet are badly blistered. I figured I should find a low-impact exercise so I started swimming, too. But my goggles don't fit right, and all the chlorine in the pool made my eyes bloodshot. I tell ya, I'm getting in good shape, but I'm a wreck.

I really needed to remedy the blisters situation. I live so close to the beach and the weather is turning out to be beautiful this summer, it's a shame if I'm reluctant to run. I didn't understand -- I bought the same brand of sneakers I always get. Ditto for the insoles. Okay, sometimes I need to trim the edges of 'em to make a better fit inside the shoe. But they just didn't seem to line up properly -- what the hell was wrong? Then it dawned on me: I had them on the wrong feet. The right insole was in the left shoe and vice versa. Once I switched 'em, problem solved.

Yeah, I'm working on making my body better. Too bad about the brains.