run on sentences

I guess I was a little grumpy this am. I didn't run cause I was sore from my 20 miler on Saturday. I didn't get my clothes ready the night before so I suppose that is what set them off. It started when I looked in the closet and said "All right, who's coming to work with me today?" "You don't want to wear me." a summery skirt from Ann Taylor Loft said. "You know I was just an impulse buy to wear to a wedding. Besides, you should have gotten a size 6!", the skirt taunted. "Your apron shows unless you want to wear a long shirt and then you will look frumpy. How about a girdle? Or some of those spanxx things?" "They didn't have a size 6!" I retorted back angrily, but knowing that the skirt was right. I really needed a 6. It was a cheap panic buy cause I thought I needed something new. "Don't look at me" said a pair of gray Gap pants. "I make you feel like your butt looks big!". "Not me"

Most mornings when my friend Becky, Jack the dog, and I are coming back from our run, we see a man hunched over his walker, making his way down the street. The tag is still attached to the walker and it has a seat on it in case he gets tired. He usually goes a block or so and then turns around and comes back. We say "hi" and he always turns, brightens up his somewhat sallow (cancer or congestive heart failure, is my diagnosis) face with a smile and either hellos us or comments on the weather. Just a summer or so ago I would see this same man, about 4 miles away from his home, walking at a determined fast clip. He was thin and wirey with a hairless skinny chest. He seemed to walk every morning and I ran into him on several of my routes or passed him as I drove to work. He always had a stained white shirt either on, or slung over his skinny shoulders, his hairless chest not yet hunched over with disease. He wore white pants too - they were stained and must have been his

OK so I have written enough sob stories about dead parents, and grandparents. Here's one for my cousin Bonnie! Yesterday I ran 14 or so miles with my friend Suzanne. It about wiped me out but it was a perfect day and we ran a different route, just for fun. In the process, we almost got hit by a car, whose driver had the nerve to swear at us! But we didn't get hit and get broken femurs and hips and I live to write about it. Actually I am not going to write about the run...it was a good one and no one got hurt and we will do 18 miles next weekend. I got home from running and was perspiring more than usual. I looked in the mirror and saw a red faced but with undertones of pale (I have been looking at too many Sephora makeup recommendations), sweaty, old lady with a high forehead and no eyebrows - haven't had them colored or shaped in a while. There was no "glistening" at all going on with me. My imaginary friend Jennifer - she looks beautiful after a run.

This is a picture of grandma and grandpa Ojanen (Clara and Simon) my dad's parents. They lived on a farm and we visited them every Sunday for roast beef and red jello with real whipped cream. We also always had raw milk straight from the cow. Clara and Simon worked hard on their farm. There wasn't much time for fun or for fooling with silly grandchildren. I don't remember grandma Ojanen ever touching me except to put my hair in braids so tight that my eyes got slanted. She always thought she was dying and argued with her neighbor over who was the fattest. She wanted to be the fattest! She also spoiled my dad rotten - he was the baby of the family and never had to lift a finger to do anything, much to my mother's dismay. My grandma Ojanen never liked my mom cause she thought my dad should have married a good Finnish girl. My mom, in her later years, talked about how much this had hurt her. Grandpa Ojanen was a little more affectionate and positive. Grandma and her Finni