Basically - I am a marathon runner whose mind has left this plane of existence. All that I am focused on is the goal of finishing the race. Crossing the line. Breaking the tape.

This weekend was a bit tumultuous. I came closer to having to change out of the pants than I have at any other time during the entire process. A spoonful of vanilla bean creme brulee was flung at me by a little bird (perhaps deservedly so) - that landed on my shirt - dangerously close to the pants. I was also threatened by someone who said that they would throw grape soda on me and lastly - Irving Brown Socks was given a bath this weekend.

All potential run enders - that were luckily avoided. That is sometimes how championships are made - whether they be in foosball, jarts or what have you. And some people out there point to luck. Maybe the pants really aren’t that great or whatever. Well - let me tell you Sunday armchair of a loveseat sweatpants wearer - Like a jungle cat - We are focused - We will go out there every day like it is our last day - in pants - and we - will - wear - these - pants.

Thank you very much.