I may or may not have miscalculated the distance to Sports Authority today and spent nearly four hours biking over twenty five miles to get there and back. ON A BEACH CRUISER.
If I did such a thing, it would be especially ridiculous to purchase two pairs of running shoes, considering that a trek of that magnitude would leave me with the kneecaps of my college dorm mate, the eighteen year old medical student who used to puke outside of our doorway every single Thursday at 4.37 in the morning.
On the upside, I overheard a conversation that included, "Don't be sayin' youz a fuckin' woman when I heard you talkin' about your wife, bitch." Which almost made the entire trip worthwhile.