Day 145: Revenge of the weeds

I come to you fresh off a trip to the ER with a head full of morphine and Valium. I'd like to say it was a band of ninjas who took me out, but that's not the case. No, it was weeds that have me on the couch wincing in pain. Picking weeds dealt me a death blow this morning, and now I'm in old man mode. Bending over, pulling crabgrass, and bending back up ctrippled me hardcore. As crappy as I feel and as disappointed as I am that I'm not doing all the things I had planned, I'm grateful for modern medicine that has me feeling like I'm floating on a cloud with Hendrix and Morrison and Joplin and we are about to jam. Also thankful for a patient wife. But I swear if I cant run in the Warrior Dash that I've been training for since January I'm going to drop bombs on the weeds in my yard and hunt down their families and their children. Now, I've got some jamming to do.