Unaware of the tragedy to follow, I laced up my rollerskates and waited for Tom to concoct a perfectly proportioned electrolyte mix. Fifteen miles is a long way to run, which is why I decided he required wheeled accompaniment.
Rounding a corner by the man-made beach, I got clotheslined by a canoe. In the back of a parked pickup truck. Flew right underneath and skidded down the path on my tushy. It was really very acrobatic, but I did not stick the landing.
Luckily, there was a lifeguard competition going on and the beach was packed with their loyal fans. Who all turned around when the canoe took me out. Because of the loud bang. If you're going to careen down a path on your ass, you might as well have spectators is all I'm saying.